Come on Pants!
by Neku the Last Reaper
Summary: The pants weren't his idea. Denmark wouldn't let him live it down. But off of the ice, the affection between the two reveals something Norway had always suspected. But the Vancouver Olympics would change it all. Denmark/Norway
1. Uniform Dedication

**A/N**: My first Hetalia story! During the course of the Vancouver Olympics, I found myself completely endeared to the Norwegian Men's Curling Team Pants. Since international sports are great for Hetalia fics. Since I like Denmark/Norway, there will be hints of that in here too.

Denmark: "Danma"  
Norway: "Nora"

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia Axis Powers, but I am an avid curling fan.

Warning: Personified nations, slight yaoi, sports terminology, and amazingly cool uniforms.

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Norway sighed and glanced at his boss. With the Winter Olympics fast approaching, it was time to pick out the uniforms he and his teammates would be wearing. He followed the hockey team into the changing room and a few minutes later emerged in a large red jersey over his pads, skates clicking against the tile. He wandered out into the viewing room where the government officials in charge of the Olympic team department. He glanced out over the group and saw Denmark of all people sitting in the group.

"What are you doing here?" Norway accused pointing his stick at his friend and fellow nation.

Denmark waved with a giant grin on his face, "I heard a rumor that this year's uniform would be worth it to come check out! So I pulled a few strings to see ya Nora."

The other Nordic frowned, "I see nothing funny about a decent hockey uniform!"

The taller man's grin grew, almost to the slasher smile he tended to sport whenever his axe was in one hand and alcohol in the other. "Oh I'm not here about the hockey uniforms."

Norway shook his head and wandered back to the changing room. He removed the heavy pads, then sat down to undo the skates. He pulled on the skintight ski uniform and flushed slightly. He wondered if this was what Denmark meant by interesting. It was true that with the advent of technologic advances, uniforms in many sports had become very streamlined, and by contrast skintight. It was also true that any time Norway went out in this outfit, particularly in front of Denmark, he felt like he was going out naked. He followed the rest of the skiers out of the room, his face turned scarlet as Denmark's eyes met his. He broke away first, losing the battle instantly and allowing Denmark to eye him fully. He turned to go get changed, though Norway was quite sure he heard his fellow Nordic wolf whistle at his departure. Then came the speed skating and luge uniforms, both just as bad and earning him equal reactions from Denmark. He flushed worse every time he came out in a new uniform, despite knowing that Denmark had seen him in less.

"And lastly we have the curling uniforms," the advisor noted to the King and Denmark.

Norway emerged while Denmark let out a snicker, "what is up with those pants?!" The taller man pointed at the red, white, blue, and grey argyle plaid patterned pants adorning Norway's lower body.

The smaller Nordic glared daggers at his friend "shut up. These are the uniform you are going to bow before!"

Denmark shook his head, spiked blond hair bouncing frantically. "You're right about that, I'll be bowing, cause I don't think I can stop laughing."

Norway grit his teeth, his curl of hair twitching with fury. "Just you watch Danma. I will sweep the floor with you."

Denmark howled with laughter at the accidental curling pun his friend had made, "not if you keep the B-movie dialogue."

Norway strode briskly from the stage and changed out of the uniform. He packed up all of his new outfits and checked the practice schedule. He had curling the next morning, and he was almost positive that Denmark would be there to laugh at him again. Nora picked up his bags and departed back to his house. He set down the equipment and walked back to the bedroom. He keeled over wondering if Denmark would stop by tonight. He turned red burying his head in the pillow. His stomach growled before he could fall asleep.

The Nordic walked to the kitchen, pulled out some leftovers and reheated them in the microwave. He ate while watching some television. The show was improvised comedy and at one point he nearly snorted his mouthful of soda out his nose. He frowned, just one more thing for Denmark to tease him about. He cleaned up his dinner and put the dishes in the sink before returning to the program. Norway channel surfed for another hour before he finally stood up, shut off the TV and changed into his pajamas. He walked back into the kitchen and put the dishes in the dishwasher to clean overnight.

Back in his bedroom he looked at the uniforms and sighed. Normally he didn't mind the uniforms, but he sensed something would be different this year. Regardless of what Denmark said, he would keep fighting on and wouldn't stop until the other Nordic was groveling at his feet for forgiveness. He took out the cross beret from his hair and curled up under the covers.


	2. Practical Application

**A/N**: Yo, it's time for chapter 2 and all of the kind reviews! I feel honored. HanaBibi informed me that in Norway "Nora" is a girl's name. So for the remainder of the story only Denmark will refer to Norway by this name, his human name for this story is going to be "Nils". And there's a fan bonus for those who've read my stuff on FictionPress.

Disclaimer: Ownership = 0

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The next morning saw Norway out at the Snarøya Curling Hall practicing with the team. He relaxed and stared down the long stretch of misted ice to the large target called a house at the far end. He gripped the metal handle of the hefty stone and closed his eyes. As he opened them he placed his back foot on the tiny step and pushed himself and the rock forward along the ice. He stood up as the sweepers followed the rock, "sweep! Sweep!" Norway shouted, the rock's arcing course straightened and slammed into the cluster of opposing stones at the end, scattering them. He propelled himself down the ice to a congratulatory back pat from his team. Breaking apart a cluster like that was a difficult shot to pull off.

However from the stands, Norway swore he heard the echoes of Denmark's laughter. His teeth clenched and he gripped his broom, why did he have to wear these pants? "Whose idea was it to wear these pants?"

One of his teammates raised a hand, "I thought since everyone wears black, we'd have some fun with it. After all, that's what sports are all about."

A smile crossed Norway's face. "You're right, it is about having fun. At any rate, good practice everyone. I'll see you back here on Thursday."

They all nodded and departed. Norway walked to his locker, but when he opened it and peered into his bag he paled slightly. He'd forgotten he had changed back at his house, and hadn't bothered to pack his clothes. It reminded the Nordic of why he wasn't a morning person, so he sighed and packed his broom in the long bag. He slung it over his shoulder and swapped his shoes out. The personified country departed the Hall and walked out onto the sidewalk. Outside a group of six or so teenagers stood around, they weren't from the country by the look of them. One of a pair of black haired twins waved over at Norway and smiled, "hello Mr. Norway!"

He waved back. "Hello."

"I love your pants," the young man dragged his twin over and smiled enthusiastically. As they approached he noticed the leading twin had a pink piercing in the left ear. Apparently he was a she, Norway realized after closer inspection, and she switched over to rapid Italian reaching into her backpack for a camera. So a pair of Feliciano and Romano's people, the Nordic noted to himself, he'd have to tell the brothers the next time he saw them. "Would you take a picture of us?" Despite that she had flawless Norwegian, he wouldn't have thought that would make any sense.

"Um, certainly," he nodded. The male twin put the camera to his eye, and suddenly the group of friends the twins had been sporting crowded around.

"Sorridete!" The young man shouted . The group smiled, and the camera clicked.

The girl turned back to him, "Thank you! We all have tickets to the Olympics, so we'll be cheering for you!"

Norway nodded and smiled, "I'll look forward to it."

The nation waved as the group departed. He smiled and, after stopping at a convenience store for a power drink, he returned home. He sensed something was wrong immediately when he crossed the threshold. The TV was on when it shouldn't have been. And it was fixed on some pathetic soap opera. He drew the curling broom from its bag and crept to the couch. Denmark was sprawled out over the leather, a bottle of beer in one hand and crumbs everywhere. An abandoned plate that apparently contained the food Norway had planned on eating earlier was the source of the crumb invasion. Norway's knuckles went white as he clutched the broom. "Danma, get up, clean up and get out of my house!"

Denmark glanced up at him, "welcome home Nora of the Fail Pants." Norway could tell from this distance that the other Nordic was completely plastered. "Yer jus' in time… geta pint an' c'mere!"

"I said get out," Norway repeated clutching his broom defensively.

"Fine, fine, Nora's bein' mean…" the larger country stood up with a swagger. He swayed slightly while he walked, his toe caught on the carpet and he toppled on top of Norway. Denmark smirked and gazed down at the struggling Nordic, "whassamatter Nora? Not happy to see me?" The larger country smirked predatorily and leaned closer to the smaller man.

Norway's face turned red, "not really, if you're going to come to my house and get drunk, then I don't want to see it."

Denmark stumbled up and Norway sighed and put an arm over his shoulders. "Come on, let's get you to bed." It was too late to send Denmark home; he'd do it tomorrow when his friend was hung over, as payment for showing up at his house and causing chaos. He guided his friend up to the guest bedroom, laid him down and closed the door.

Norway walked back downstairs and pulled out the vacuum. He cleaned up the mess the other Nordic had left behind, and then he finally changed out of his uniform. He ordered a pizza and sat down in front of the TV, shifting between watching it and checking out the travel arrangements to Vancouver. He couldn't really remember Canada, but the few times he did, the man was quite amicable. So it would be a pleasure to go meet him in the field of combat yet again. If only so he didn't have to hang out with Denmark night and day. He knew for a fact that if it weren't for the fact a marriage between nations occurred when the nations merged, and then he would swear _he _was married to Denmark. He went to the door, paid for the pizza and smiled watching the news about the preparations in Vancouver for the Olympics. He cleaned up his place, running the vacuum several times over everywhere Denmark had made a mess. When he finished he turned off the TV before going to bed in his own room.

The next morning Norway woke up with something warm wrapped around him, he smiled at how nice it felt. He rolled over and his half shut blue eyes noticed a face next to him. Unruly spikes of blond hair lay sprawled over the pillow. Norway glanced under the covers to find that the other person was in nothing but a pair of red and white boxers. His eyes widened, "Denmark!" the heat ran to his face as the larger nation rolled over on top of him. "GET OFF OF ME!"

"Five more minutes," the other nation muttered and buried his face in Norway's neck, his fingers wound around the smaller nation's idiot curl. The smaller nation bit his lip, "play with me."

Norway let out a shout, "DANMA GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!!!!!!!!!" He shoved Denmark out of his bed, shoved him out the door, down the stairs and out of the house. "AND STAY OUT!" He roared slamming the door and locking it behind the confused and hung over Denmark.


	3. Arrival Destination

**A/N**: Chapter three, our fearless hero Norway decides to stop in to see his little brother Iceland. Who's name for this story will be "Espen". Other than that, it's a pants-light chapter, but they will come in triumphantly in chapter 4. Sorry for the lack of update, I got Final Fantasy XIII and I've had a lot of fun playing it.

Disclaimer: Ownership, not mine.

---

A week before Opening Ceremonies saw Norway waking up in Reykjavík in Iceland. He'd learned a long time ago that trans-Atlantic travel was much more comfortable when he visited his brother's house. He made sure all of his things were packed and walked down to the table where most of the other Nordic countries were sitting around for breakfast. Sweden and Finland had both gotten up early to help with the cooking, since Iceland knew that he would have a lot of work to do, most of the other nations had figured out the trick of stopping in Reykjavík on long flights too.

"Good morning Nils," the white haired nation greeted quietly while he walked over to his older sibling. He hadn't quite gotten over the fact that Norway was his brother.

"Morning Espen," he greeted Iceland with a yawn. "Morning Berwald, Tino." He sat at the table next to the other Nordics.

"Took you long enough," Tino greeted, "did Denmark sneak in again?"

"No, thank you very much," he yawned.

"'S a good thing." Berwald muttered without diverting attention from his paper.

"Hey Nora ya took all the hot water ya bastard!" Came a very angry call from the only Nordic absent from breakfast.

Norway shrugged apologetically, "why does he call me Nora? What did I do to deserve a name for a girl from him?"

Sweden turned the page of the newspaper in his hands. "H's 'lways liked you. J'st h's way 'f showing 't."

Finland laughed, "Svi you're just as bad about teasing people. Don't make poor Nils feel too bad." He smiled as his dog Hanatamago jumped up on his lap and barked quietly at him. The blond nation stroked the dog's ear. "And besides, knowing Denmark as we do, he's just a poor sport at showing his affection."

Iceland nodded, "besides you deserve it, you're a terrible big brother."

Norway frowned, "fine, I see where I'm not wanted. I'll see you all in Vancouver later." He walked back to his room, and pulling his suitcase down the hall he set it by the door. He returned to the kitchen, thanked his brother for the hospitality, and then left a small gift of appreciation, a box of gourmet black licorice. The Nordic walked out to the waiting car and was spirited off to the airport. He checked in and within a few hours full of clearing security and buying a new book for the plane, he found himself on the plane to Vancouver. Unfortunately as he settled in with a book before the flight finished boarding, he was disturbed by a loud disruption.

"Yo Nora! Look who got on an earlier flight!" Came an all too cheerful greeting from Denmark as he flopped down in the seat next to Norway.

"Great..." Norway groaned wondering what ancient spirit he had aggravated by word, deed, or otherwise. Now he was stuck on an airplane with the last person in the world, twelve or more hours on a plane with no hope of escape.

Denmark's hand closed around Norway's shoulder and forcibly turned him around, "Now Nora, you wouldn't want this whole plane to know how much you scream would you?"

"Come on Danma, do you have to do this now?" He muttered, fist clenched in preparation to put the man's lights out.

Denmark leaned in, "either that or I spill on those stupid pants you're gonna be sporting!"

"Leave me alone!" Norway snarled, blue light encasing his hand as he reached up and pinched Denmark's carotid artery in an almost Vulcan Nerve Pinch fashion. The energy from his spirit friend would see to it that his friend wouldn't be disturbing him until they reached their destination. The Nordic seriously doubted a little nap would cause Denmark any harm beyond what he deserved. He opened his book, something about one of America's former bosses being a vampire hunter. It was quite entertaining, if only for the image of Alfred "Oblivious" Jones working for a vampire hunter. Norway ate a little, slept a lot, and by the time the plane was entering British Columbia he woke up to something soft tickling his face. He turned his head to find Denmark had fallen on his shoulder, still unconscious, and Norway in turn had fallen asleep on top. He craned his neck watching Denmark. The man wasn't all ill intentions and alcohol. He was quite adorable asleep, clinging to Norway's navy colored sailor outfit with a bit of drool running down his chin. The nation paused, had he just called _Denmark_ _**adorable!?**_

"Attention, we're beginning our final descent into Vancouver, please make sure that all of your tray tables are up, belongings stowed away, and seatbacks returned to the upright position." The flight crew announced, repeating the message in Spanish, French and Swedish. Norway stowed his book in the pocket in front of him.

When the plane landed Norway prodded Denmark to get him to move. The larger man refused to budge, on one hand Norway was thrilled he wouldn't have to put up with his friend. On the other, he was worried that he may have done more damage than he would have liked. Denmark snuffled but despite the large backpack he had, Norway also found himself carrying Denmark off of the plane. It too some effort to get him out to set him in a wheelchair. He pushed the larger nation up the ramp into the decorated airport. The Nordic smiled, Canada had decided to keep the decorations simple and sophisticated, just the way it should be. From the opposite gateway emerged a person Norway recognized as much as he wished he didn't, if not by sound then by sight. The leader of the group of passengers had glasses, blond hair and a smile that said, 'Hello world I am the hero and you are not.'

"'CAUSE I HAD MY TRAY TABLE UP AND MY FULL UPRIGHT POSITION! I HAD MY TRAY TABLE UP AND MY FULL UPRIGHT POSITION! I HAD MY TRAY TABLE UP AND MY FULL UPRIGHT POSITION!'" America was singing at the top of his lungs, ear buds wedged so deep in, Norway doubted America would be able to hear for the next week. The nation waved over at Norway and continued, "YO NORWAY! WHAT HAPPENED TO DENMARK?!"

The Nordic vaguely wondered if it would even be worth it to reply, instead he shrugged and pushed Denmark off to the baggage carousel. Further down and well away from America's shouting at the top of his lungs, he saw Germany and North Italy walking down a hall lined with the flags of various nations. He waved as he passed them. "Oh, before I forget... Thank you Italy." Norway commented then hurried off to the elevator.

Italy blinked and smiled, "okay!"

Norway collected his and Denmark's bags, but Denmark had started to stir. He certainly didn't want to be around when Denmark woke up. So he hastily handed him over to the limo marked with Denmark's national flag. He made an excuse along the line that Denmark had gotten motion sick and passed out en route. The entourage nodded and thanked the nation for his aid and they packed him up in the limo and drove off.

The Nordic smiled and pushed the wheelchair over to the door before heading off to his own entourage. He popped into his limo and gazed out the window while watching the other cars go speeding by. He wondered if the curling pants had made the trip okay. He smirked, imagining Denmark bowing before the awesomeness that was his pants. This would be worth the effort, but he couldn't afford to lose focus now. If he wanted respect, he'd have to work for it.


	4. vs Canada

**A/N**: For anyone who was confused, Denmark and Norway are not brothers. (Sorry to the person who asked me if they were related. You know who you are.)

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. All I own are the humans getting to watch the action.

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The first day of curling competition arrived and Norway had to take on Canada in the opening match with America that night. He stood in his hotel room and pulled on his polo shirt, boxers, and curling pants. He slid in his Northern Cross beret, picked up his broom and strode purposefully from the room. His first match was against Canada, the first chance to show Denmark and the rest of the world that sports could be fun and the pants were awesome. He met his team in the room, accompanied by a small throng of fans. At the forefront were the twins whom Norway had met back outside of the curling hall. "Mr. Norway!" The girl called, "we're with you all the way!" She along with her brother, and their friends from before all seemed to be sporting the pants too. But they had also dyed their hair patterned after the flag, he wondered if this enthusiasm was common among young people in general.

"Thank you," He smiled at them, it felt nice to have support. The country glanced around and spotted his brother Iceland, who reluctantly had allowed Norwegian flags to be painted on his cheeks. "Even you Espen?"

"Yes, and you'd better wipe the floor with everyone today, I didn't get fancy just to watch you fail." There was an appreciative chuckle at the incidental curling pun, but other than that the contingent piled onto the bus and drove off to the Olympic curling hall. The bus arrived and the athletes bid farewell to their fans and headed for the locker rooms. The fans climbed into the stadium, the male twin looked over at his sister before checking his ticket, "how did you manage to get front row seats?"

"Easy, I pulled some strings and my Master also contributed." The girl smiled as she, her brother and friends filed down a mostly empty section of the front row. At the end sat a teen with tousled silver hair. "Yo Kay! Thanks for the tickets!"

The teen waved, "Tenoh, Darnell, long time no see, I take it you're supporting Norway then?" Kay put both feet up on the rails to show off the patterned pants.

"Definitely," they agreed.

Iceland wound his way to sit on the other side of Kay and gazed out over the misted ice lanes. He paused his gaze over the entrance from the locker rooms as eight curling teams entered, led by Mounted Police and the shrill call of bagpipes playing 'Scotland the Brave' filled the air along with cheers. When the Norway team emerged, the cheers dimmed to only those ardent supporters as the rest of the crowd took in the sight of the pants. One audible laugh could be heard from Denmark, who had taken the ice for his own match. Slowly cheers filled the air as other teams emerged, effectively negating Denmark's mockery. That made Iceland smile, even Danma couldn't escape the effect of a crowd that wouldn't listen. At that moment a young boy with bushy eyebrows and a sailor uniform appeared and sat down on the aisle seat next to Iceland.

"Hello Peter," he greeted. It was a rule among the Nordics that they could only greet the adopted child with his non-nation name.

Peter Kirkland, also known as Sealand, smiled brightly, "hi there Iceland!" He leaned around to watch the humans sitting next to his friend, "hi everyone! I'm Sealand, right now we're offering knighthood for a discount 19 euros!"

"Hello!" Tenoh called back.

Iceland jabbed Sealand lightly, "they're starting in a minute, shut up."

Sure enough Norway and Canada took the sheet closest to their seats, at least Iceland assumed one of the four Canadian team members was the nation. The Nordic on the sheet of misted ice frowned. He hadn't heard a peep out of Denmark since the initial outburst. He set his non-Teflon covered shoe on the ice and pushed off, gliding along to the far side and back. He consulted with his team for a moment. They would be shooting red for the match, and they wouldn't start with hammer, the all important last stone of the end.

The teams shook hands, Norway briefly saw Canada, or so he thought. The Nordic slid down to the far end of the sheet, and stood at the back of the house, the large target that the players shot for. He pointed his broom just to the right of the two-foot circle. The stone slid down the ice and after a gentle bit of sweeping, it slowed to a stop a few inches from where Norway had pointed. A cheer went up from the front row Norway supporters. That was a great shot to start off the match with.

But almost two hours later at a 6-6 stalemate at the end of the tenth end, with two shots to go in the extra end, most of the Norway and Canada supporters were biting their nails or other neurotic behaviors to try and get over it. Even Iceland could feel the pressure, he dreaded what the medal matches would be like if people acted this way on day one. Norway glanced around nervously for any sign of the spiky blond Nordic who was sute to start spiting him.

Denmark had lost in his match against Switzerland and had taken a spot up with the rest of the Norway fans. "C'mon Canada! Wipe the floor with those fail pants!"

Norway clenched his fist and stared down ice to the house. He could break cluster around his guard stones and save the game. But Canada was good, and he had hammer for the end. No help for it, he'd have to use the break shot and hope to land the point. He glanced over at the nation, who'd finally become visible, at least for now. Matthew looked nervous but encouraging, his idiot curl tickling his nose playfully. He realized that even in the heat of battle, it was still just a game.

The Nordic stepped onto the hack and set up for his shot. His mind was utterly focused in the silence of the hall. "I can do this." He muttered to himself.

"Get on with it Nora!"

That shout from Denmark shattered the nation's concentration, but he refocused just in time to make his release. The stone slid down the ice, but Denmark had shattered his shot just enough. The stone didn't stop when it reached the house and scattered the cluster instead clearing the house without leaving anyone with a point. Canada stepped up to the hack as Norway passed him, "good game Nils."

"You too Matthew," he nodded with a small smile. He knew he lost, but he had no hard feelings to Canada. It was Denmark who would feel his wrath later. Matthew had a rookie shot to score the last point, as long as he landed in the house it was over. Canada stepped onto the hack, tossed, and with little effort from his sweepers, placed the last shot in the four-foot circle.

The two nations shook hands. "See you later?" Norway asked.

"It'll be an honor to play you again," Canada's voice was naturally barely a whisper but he sounded enthusiastic. The teams parted ways to raucous cheering from both sets of fans.

Norway walked back to the locker room with his team and stretched glancing down at his pants. He had felt more confident with them on. He set his broom in the small changing area and locked it up securely in the broom segment of his locker. He had another match that night, but there was plenty of time to relax. He put on his normal navy sailor outfit and hung up his uniform. He'd be wearing his alternate uniform again that night; these pants were red, white, and grey. As he left the locker room, he was greeted by Denmark.

"Looks like those pants were all talk and no action," Denmark smirked once the rest of Norway's team was out of earshot.

"Leave me alone Denmark, it's a round robin tournament. I would have made that last shot if you hadn't been shouting when I was going." He retorted.

"C'mon," Denmark pinned Norway to the wall, planting his arms firmly on either side of Norway's head. "Just admit it, those pants are bringing you bad luck and you know it."

Norway ducked out of the way, his face flushed with anger, "lay off Danma or so help me I will kick your ass!"

"Bring it on Nora," Denmark smirked, setting up to fight. He stepped forward, fist readied to punch.

Norway dropped and spun on the tile, taking out Denmark's legs. The larger man fell and Norway rolled out of the way. "Try it again and I won't be so nice." Despite what Denmark had taught the rest of the Nordics, Norway preferred being a combat pragmatist. He ran off, not wanted to see what Denmark would do when he got up in a few minutes. He found the crowd of fans eagerly crowded around the door. "Great job Mr. Norway!" Tenoh shouted.

"Thank you everyone," he waved at the group. "Our next match is tonight so please continue to support us!"

The crowd cheered, and the Nordic walked confidently to his waiting ride. He picked up a bottle of water once he was in the bus along with the rest of the crowd. He returned to his room eager for his match. He sat down on the side of the bed and opened up another bottle of water after discarding the empty one, his free hand turned on the TV, finding his favorite improv comedy show. He stood up half an hour later to get some lunch when a knock on the door caught his attention. He peeked out through the eyehole to find Belarus standing at his door.

He opened up and blinked, "hello Belarus. What brings you here?"

"My brother is avoiding me and I want to know if you are hiding him from me," she gave him the evil eye and pointed a long knife to his neck.

"Please, be my guest," he swallowed and stepped back to let her in. She spent several minutes trashing the room to find her brother.

"Thank you for your help Norway," she smiled kindly then disappeared down the hallway, "Russia... let's get married... Russia..."

The Nordic released the breath he didn't know he'd been holding. He closed the door and set about cleaning the room, so much for his lunch plans. What took one overly enthusiastic and determined nation five minutes to trash, took another more annoyed one twenty minutes to clean. He called room service and ordered a sandwich. He ate once the food arrived and he finished cleaning. The nation keeled over onto the bed, and within minutes was asleep.

---

**A/N:** I finished my thesis and handed it in, so there will be much in the way of updating now! And I've successfully gained admission to college! All that remains is to not take so many LaCrosse balls to the chest, even with protection that hurts. I also seem to have a thing for Norway sleeping…


	5. vs The Awesome Trio

**A/N**: Finally done with school! Expect the story to finish up soon! Also I know Prussia would also be called 'Germany' by this point but since most of the fans would know him as 'Prussia', I'm leaving it as such.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.

* * *

Norway yawned and woke up an hour before his match against America with a yawn. He sat up abruptly and checked his bed feeling uncannily paranoid. He sighed gratefully when he saw that Denmark had not infiltrated his room, much less his bed. That was until he heard the shower go on. The Nordic's initial reaction was one of extreme confusion, he had the only key card to his room and he had the deadbolt and sliding lock on. He realized that the sound was coming from the room next door; he smiled, followed by an abrupt frown. The person in the shower was singing loud enough for the noise to carry into the next room. Norway frowned; he'd recognize that horribly off key singing even if he were dead. "Damn you Danma..." he muttered, picked up his curling broom and pounded his fist against the wall. "Keep it down you sorry excuse for a living being."

The singing stopped followed by a loud cheer, "yo Nora! I didn't know you were next door! This is so cool!"

"Oh crap..." the smaller Nordic frowned even more; he'd given away his position to Denmark.

Norway fell silent and hastily changed into his other pants and pulled off his polo shirt. He put on some deodorant and pulled on his other polo shirt. The Nordic picked up his large blue sailor hat, and after a brief hair combing he put it on. He thought that it didn't really go with the red shirt and white base pants but the white shirt with the red-based pants. He smiled and felt that the combination of pants, his hat, and his determination would win tonight's match!

The Nordic walked over and placed his ear to the door then looked out the eyehole. No sign of Denmark, he sighed with relief then after checking he had a key card he left the room quietly. He walked swiftly to the elevator down the hall and pressed the down button. But then he heard singing from the other side of the elevator door. When the door opened up to reveal what some nations called the "Awesome Trio" of Prussia, Denmark and America, Norway had wisely decided to hide in the curtains of the window next to the elevator.

Denmark stuck his head out, "y'know I swear I saw Nora out here. What about you guys?" He pulled his head back in to look at his friends.

Prussia shrugged, "the awesome me didn't see anything. You Gilbird?" He asked the small bird sitting on his head, the bird chirped. He shrugged, "nothing over here Denmark."

"Ahahaha, I didn't see anything either!" America noted as the doors began to close.

Norway peered out after feeling absolutely certain he wouldn't see them in the immediate future. He picked up his curling gear and walked further down the hall and opened the door to the staircase. Nine flights of stairs going down wouldn't hurt too badly. Besides, he knew those three in the elevator considered themselves above walking when they could take the elevator. He sighed and started his decent emerging a few minutes later behind his dedicated fan contingency. "Hello everyone." They all turned around and then cheered enthusiastically. He held up a hand and then motioned to the front door. They all nodded and followed him out to the bus to go to the evening's match. At the curling hall Norway and his teammates exited through the athlete entrance while the crowd wandered through the main doors.

The Nordic sat down in the locker room and put his stuff down. He wondered vaguely if Denmark would show up at the match, tonight was his bye in the tournament. If that happened Norway would consider himself lucky if the other Nordic didn't decide to exact revenge for earlier that day. When the bagpipes started to play Norway followed the Mounted Police Officer into the hall for the second time that day. He paused and gazed out at the house at the far end of the sheet, wondering if he could pull this off. No, he would pull this off no matter what. After all, the last thing he wanted was another reason to punch Denmark's lights out. He paused, scratched the thought and immediately decided he could always use another reason to punch Denmark's lights out, just not another loss.

America stepped up to the hack of the house with a smile on his face before he waved over to the other two members of the 'Awesome Trio'. He then jabbed Norway in the ribs with his broom handle. "So Norway, Denmark told me to tell you hi!" He laughed.

Norway maintained his passive face with a nod, "I send him my felicitations."

"YOU'RE SENDING HIM SOMETHING SO LEWD! YOU SICKO!" The other nation fell on the ice and scampered backwards onto the raised carpet.

Norway shook his head and pointed his broom next to the stone that had slid into the six-foot ring of the house during the conversation. His team shot and knocked the stone cleanly out of the way while he swept it to a stop near the two-foot mark. Somehow he wasn't quite as annoyed as he would be Denmark, then again maybe he should try the technique of using big words with Denmark too. Barely five minutes had passed in the match before he felt the broom in his side again.

"Hey can I try on your pants?" America asked as he pushed several stones out of the way from where they touched the edge.

Norway gave the nation an uninterested look, "I'm disinclined to acquiesce to your request."

"Meaning?" America pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"Means 'no'."

The match pressed on into the night and into the final end. A tricky situation presented itself so Norway as skip had gone over to the hack to shoot. He felt grateful he had the hammer. That way he'd have the last shot if worse came to worse. The house was clustered up and several guard stones blocked his way, he needed to get around those and knock America out of the center. He sighed, just his luck, not only did he have a shot that made even the greatest veterans question their skills, but he also had to contend with Prussia and Denmark screaming over the silent hall.

He glanced up at the stands to see two of the fans sitting next to Prussia and Denmark stand up. The two had fire in their eyes, the silver haired teen punched Prussia while the black haired girl decked Denmark. The two nations collided with one another and slumped to the floor unconscious. The two humans nodded at one another and flashed Norway a thumbs up. He returned it quietly, and then took his shot. The stone slid down the ice and broke up the cluster at the house, sliding neatly over the button at the very heart of the house. America frowned and slid his shot down the ice, only to have it stopped by one of his own guard stones. Sighing with defeat he waved over to the officials, since at this point it was impossible to win.

Norway and America shook hands, "now can I try those pants on?"

The Nordic thought for a moment, "maybe. I can give you the URL for the place where we bought them."

"Cool! Hahaha! Good match!"

"You too." Norway continued on with shaking hands before disappearing to the locker room to pack up. One and one for the day, if he kept it up then there wouldn't be any way of stopping him. Least of all, the spiky blond pest who apparently didn't have the iron jaw he often bragged about. That made him snicker, he'd have a field day teasing the other Nordic to no end. But for now he'd enjoy his victory in piece, maybe even see if Iceland had some licorice to snack on after dinner.

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**A/N:** Finally a chapter that didn't end with Norway sleeping. Well as a celebration of graduation I'll get chapter six up next week. Also a story featuring the strangest crossover pairing is on the horizon.


	6. Reversed Polarity

**A/N**: This is a curling-lite chapter, so if you're here for the sporting, I'm sorry. I also apologize for the horrible Italian grammar.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. All I own is bits of the plot (real life owns the whole curling and pants bit).

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The next day was Norway's day off, and the matches wouldn't start until the afternoon. He yawned and stretched his arms over his head, considering his options of what to do. He knew he'd have to go watch the curling in the afternoon for a bit more stat tracking and strategy but before and after that he was totally free. He showered still running over his options. He could go to a museum, watch Finland snowboard, or go for a walk. He could ask Sweden to borrow a book from and just sit in his hotel room reading.

As he put on his navy uniform adjusting his hat a knock came at the door. He walked over and peered through the hole, making sure it wasn't Denmark, or any other member of his posse. Fortunately it was two of the fans, smiling hopefully at the door. The two twins if he recalled correctly.

"Hello. What brings you two here?" He asked as he opened the door.

Tenoh smiled, "well Mr. Norway, we were going to hold a party for good luck this morning, just friends and good food. It's in room..." she paused and looked back at her brother.

"Sala sette venti cinque," her brother replied in Italian.

"Ah right, room seven twenty five, in half an hour. Thank you!" She smiled, shoved a paper with the formal invitation on it and departed with a wave.

He thought about the party, "just friends and good food eh?" This party sounded like it might be fun, just a sporting party then, no Denmark to worry about, just a few curling fans sitting around discussing the sport and generally just having fun. He stepped out of his room and went to the vending machine. He folded up the paper and stuffed it in his pocket before retrieving his wallet for a drink. A sudden blow horn siren caught his attention, and Norway leaped into the air somehow sandwiched between the ice dispenser and the wall. Below him the "Awesome Trio" wandered in waving around blow horns and other noisemakers.

"Awesome Trio are you ready to support the Bad Friends Trio?" Prussia shouted far too loudly in the confined space.

"Ready to roll!" The other two nations declared.

Norway stifled a groan at the cramp forming in his throwing arm. Couldn't they hurry up? But no, Prussia's money to buy drinks just _had_ to be wadded up such that the machine wouldn't take it. The Nordic shifted slightly to try and relieve the pressure, but the invitation in his pocket to the party slipped out and hit America in the head. The nation looked around confused before picking up the paper.

"Hey a party!" He announced waving the invite in front of his friends.

"And it looks like Nora's gonna be there!" Denmark shouted eagerly.

Prussia snatched it and chucked it over his shoulder before grabbing their drinks. "The awesome me's not interested in a party not for me! But crashing one... is a different story."

"Yeah!" The trio cheered abandoning the flyer and the room to their headquarters down the hall.

Norway fell to the ground, wincing after impact. This fell into the category of things he called "Not Good". Hastily buying some iced tea he picked up his crumpled flyer and headed over to the stairs. He walked down the narrow staircase until he reached floor seven, then quietly made his way to room 25 on the floor. The Nordic knocked before the door cracked open, "invitation." A low male voice grunted.

The nation handed over his paper and watched the door shut. A moment later it opened again onto the party. The fans had apparently commandeered a conference room moving in couches and chairs from their rooms along with the projector set up in one corner dedicatedly playing yesterday's match against the USA from the official Olympics website. A pair of teenagers sat in charge of the computer and apparently trying to do some homework.

On another side of the room Norway saw the last two people he'd ever expect to be playing Wii Tennis against one another. "Iceland? Germany?"

Iceland gave an annoyed glance at his big brother, "what is it?"

The ever-serious Germany also glanced over and nodded, "Yes?"

"What are you doing here?"

"Italy dragged me along," he muttered and served.

"Your friends over there invited me," Iceland pointed with his free hand back to the projector.

"I see..." Norway turned around looking where his younger brother was pointing. He found Italy watching the curling match on the projector from a couch surrounded by most of Norway's fan base.

"Hey Mr. Norway! Glad you could make it!" Tenoh waved happily from where they were watching the curling match. "Just ignore Ace and Joey, they're doing a physics project on curling."

He glanced down and noted the two people were doing homework in front of the couch. But then Italy jumped up and hugged Norway, "Ve~ I'm so excited! I haven't seen you since the last World Summit!" Norway briefly hugged the other nation back. Italy was affectionate with everyone but those with an idiot curl like him tended to get a hug just like his friends. "Come and get some food! I brought PASTA!" Italy smiled dragging Norway over to the conference table turned buffet.

The Nordic picked up a plate and scooped some pasta onto it, as much as he didn't admit it, he enjoyed these kinds of things. Just a bunch of friends hanging out and spending time together, sort of how it used to be with Denmark and the others. Back when Denmark wasn't so annoying, before Sweden and Finland had left. He sighed, when had everyone changed? Soon Denmark had become overbearing, cruel to his friends. Norway had been traded off to Sweden for a reason he'd never understood.

"Norway?" Italy's sad face brought Norway back to reality.

"Oh my bad Italy," he smiled at his friend and he took a scoop of gelato to go with his pasta. "Just thinking about the past."

Italy got a smile on his face, "you were thinking about Denmark."

"Was not," he denied as they sat on the couch with the fans.

"Ve~ I know love, and you like him. You just don't know how to tell him." Italy noted brightly. Even though people would say Italy was dim and couldn't read the atmosphere of a situation, when it came to matters of the heart he was on par with Belgium and Hungary for advice.

"I do not like Denmark," he denied again. After a few minutes of eating in silence the two got up again for more food in Italy's case, Norway's arm clutched in his hands.

Someone knocked on the door; Norway wanted to see who was being let in but Italy looked like he was about talk. "I'll say it one more time, I do not like Denmark! I never have and I never will end of discussion!"

Italy's closed eyes peered up over Norway's head at the nation behind him. The Nordic spun around to see Denmark standing there, his drooping spikes adding to his crestfallen appearance. "Oh... hey Nora..." The larger nation stepped back from where he'd been about to surprise attack Norway.

"Danma..." Norway started but the larger nation turned his back.

"Hey Prussia, I'm gonna go get some more beer from the room okay?"

"Sure!" The eastern half of Germany shouted as he went for a serve against Iceland.

With that the larger nation stalked out of the room, his face stony, but his eyes glistening with tears. Norway started to go after him but annoyed he walked out and down the hall in a different direction. Iceland shrugged and went on playing tennis. Germany stood up and walked over to where Italy had burst into tears. He pulled the smaller nation into a tight hug, "let's go get some air."

Italy nodded weakly and took Germany's hand as the larger man led him from the room. They stepped out onto the balcony overlooking the small lake near a park. Italy sobbed against Germany's chest. "I think I messed up Denmark and Norway's relationship forever! And now they're gonna hate me! And you're gonna hate me too! Please don't hate me!"

Germany just gave Italy a quiet pat on the head and planted a kiss on the auburn hair. "Well I certainly don't hate you. Denmark's more upset at Norway than anyone right now. I know because about a month ago he and the rest of his posse commandeered my house for a party. The man was raving depressed about how he thought Norway hated him. He was also raving about how he couldn't get Norway to understand his feelings." The nation paused and tilted Italy's head up to look at him, "I think rather than messing it up, you've set up a storybook romance for the two."

"Y-you think so?" The smaller nation sniffed and wiped his eye with the back of his hand.

"Now all that remains to be seen is how much of a clichéd romance subplot they can have," Germany gave Italy a small smile and an gentle kiss before heading back in. Italy charged forward, took the tub of gelato from the cooler, and sat down on the couch to watch yesterday's match between China and France. Germany sat next to him and draped an arm around his shoulders quietly. He leaned back and watched Italy smiling quietly. Maybe Norway would finally learn to smile; goodness knew Germany had started off in much the same boat as the Nordic.

**

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A/N:** I'm sorry to anyone who isn't a GerIta fan, I just like them and I saw a few parallels between their relationship and Denmark and Norway's. As to the pairing I hinted at last A/N it's a crossover pairing, Hetalia and Final Fantasy XIII. I'll reveal the pairing in the next chapter's ending notes!


	7. vs Germany and Switzerland

**A/N**: Wow… longest chapter yet. I know I've only done one game per chapter, but as my best friend is fond of saying "the chapter breaks where it breaks." I also encourage responsible drinking habits for those who are of an appropriate age.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. I don't own Tenga Toppa Gurren Lagan. All I own is the Norwegian fans encouraging my love of crack pairings…

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Norway awoke the next day agitated at Denmark more so than usual. It wasn't Italy's fault, Norway felt bad for the other nation since he had no idea if Italy was going to tease him more. He'd have to go apologize to Italy after his match with Germany, but for right now he had a match to focus on. He pulled on his pants and sighed, somehow he missed Denmark teasing him over them, the way he in turn would become angered, and make some snide remark. The Nordic picked up his other pair and hung them up examining the argyle pattern. When was it that he had ever missed Denmark's taunting, blunt, ignorant, and rather charming personality? He sighed and stroked the pants, then his fist clenched, _charming_? When the hell had Denmark ever been _**charming?**_ He picked up the broom and left the room bee lining for the stairs.

He descended determined, and walked the mile to the curling hall with a pensive look on his face. He entered the changing room and pulled out his broom. He entered the hall to the bagpipes and cheers, but he didn't feel enthusiastic. If anything it made him feel worse. Norway felt nauseated when he saw Denmark, not at all looking like his normal upbeat self. He looked like he hadn't slept that night, maybe even a hangover with his eyes red and still looking like he might cry at any minute. The Nordic thought he might be sick, but he shook it off long enough to shake hands with Germany and Prussia. Somewhere behind him Norway heard his fans and maybe even Italy's voice too.

"I'm sorry for what I did to Italy," Norway muttered to Germany before sliding down to join a very disgruntled looking Prussia.

"The awesome me's so not happy with you Norway!" Prussia snapped while Gilbird angrily puffed up on his head. "D'ya know what I had to do to get Denmark to calm down last night?"

Norway didn't reply for fear of something completely inappropriate for the setting. But something rattled him at the back of his brain, and it threw his game off. The only reason his mind had even wandered past the gutter was through the results of his actions. It was this laps in concentration that allowed Prussia a moment to power up. He pulled a pair of very pointy orange sunglasses that by all rights and laws of physics shouldn't have fit in his pocket. A large orange glow surrounded him and Gilbird also hopped up onto his head, wearing a miniature duplicate of his sunglasses.

He hoisted his broom into the air, "This broom is the one that will carry the awesome me to victory! You have wronged one of my precious friend's and that is one thing the awesome me cannot let stand!" His battle aura expanded and background music that sounded suspiciously like it was saying 'row row fight da powah' filled the air. A blue jacket with red flames on the cuffs and hem appeared on his back. "IT'S TIME TO TAKE THIS BEYOND THE IMPOSSIBLE!"

Norway cocked an eyebrow unimpressed, feeling distinctly that he had watched this in an anime before. So the formerly independent nation fancied himself Kamina? If he wasn't so depressed, the Nordic was sure he'd be laughing. Instead he watched Prussia head down to the far hack while his battle aura left after images of himself. Norway examined the cluster in the house. He had a stone mere inches from the button inside the center circle, Germany also had one just a few centimeters further away from the button than the Nordic's. This shot would require a delicate hand and finesse to pull off. It was a shot typically handed over to the skip, and for the German team the skip was Prussia. Unfortunately this was not a shonen anime series, so Prussia's shot infused with his battle spirit energy came tearing down the ice leaving flames for a few moments as it careened towards the house. The shot missed the cluster all together and instead hit the far wall leaving a large crack in the edge of the ring and floor.

Prussia fell flat on his face; his battle aura and coat disappeared while his sunglasses fell off. Gilbird stroked his head with a wing reassuringly. "How did that not work...?" He mumbled. Norway shrugged slightly while Germany face palmed at his older brother's stupidity. Said brother picked himself off of the ice and stumbled over to the corner of the arena. He sat down and pouted in silence. Germany waved in his alternate from the bench and took the skip position for Prussia.

With Prussia's over the top exhibition finished, the match proceeded in peace. Norway was down four to three but made several key shots to tie it four to four heading into the last end. He had hammer and a chance to end without an extra round. He slid over to the far hack from his spot in the house. Germany smiled at him, "I know you didn't mean to get Italy involved or upset. So don't worry, we're still friends."

Norway nodded and managed a small smile at the larger nation. He slid forward and knocked out the closest German stone, moving a trio of his into a tight cluster within the house. Sure enough he ended up winning seven to four. After his match he didn't stick around but instead followed Germany to the locker room where Italy was waiting for them. Norway bowed his head, "I'm sorry for all the trouble I caused you yesterday."

"It's okay Norway!" Italy smiled and gave him a hug before firmly taking Germany's hand. "See you later ve~!"

"Bye," Norway muttered before heading to his locker room. He packed up and walked back to the hotel, collapsing on the bed in annoyance. He felt miserable at seeing the condition Denmark was in. But why should he care? He didn't care, or so Norway told himself on his way to get lunch. He waited for room service to arrive and he ate in his room. The TV was showing the highlights of the snowboarding competition. It sure looked like Finland was enjoying himself on the slopes. He sighed and slammed his hand into the bed. He grabbed a book from the nightstand and began to read.

A few hours later Norway changed into his freshly laundered pants and walked back to the arena with his gear. He set everything down and headed out for another match, this time against Switzerland. Beyond the handshakes and wishes of good luck the two nations stood at the house silently. Up in the stands however, Tenoh faced her brother "Why weren't you at breakfast this morning Darnell?"

"I couldn't help it," he shrugged. "Ethan didn't tell me where we were supposed to be meeting up. So I ate here at the hotel with a nice young man."

Tenoh pointed a finger at him, "cheating on Ethan?"

"No, he just looked depressed and forlorn so I decided to help him out. We talked about what was wrong over pancakes with maple syrup. I didn't realize our language was so similar to this world's language called 'French' I believe. Anyway I agreed to help him get the girl he likes to notice him. I also sort of told him we'd all pitch in too. I said we'd meet up here." Darnell smiled brightly.

"So he's going to be joining us?" Tenoh asked watching Switzerland nudge Norway's stone out of the two-foot circle. "Come on pants! Pants, pants, pants!"

"No, he's out there right now. According to him, his crush is the little sister of the Swiss skip." Darnell pointed out while clapping as Norway knocked out Switzerland's shot.

Tenoh's mismatched eyes widened, "D, the Swiss skip is Switzerland. His little sister is Lichtenstein... what'd this guy say his name was?"

He smiled, "he said his name was Canada, though he said I could call him Matthew." He pointed to the far end of the sheet at a lanky haired blond with one long idiot curl sliding down the ice.

His sister just about slugged him, "you agreed to help out with an international romance? If we screw up then the world could explode! Wars would start! Switzerland's really overly protective of his sister! He'll be after your blood, tanned hide, and head to mount as a trophy! AND YOU AGREED TO HELP?"

The teen nodded, "yeah. I figured since we're from what you called a 'parallel dimension' we could escape without repercussions. He seemed really desperate since he said no one really remembers or notices him. They see him for a few minutes then forget about him. I can't stand to see anyone so miserable! Please help?"

Tenoh almost rammed her head through the railing of the stands. "Fine... be it on your head and don't expect me to bail you out if things go south."

Darnell grinned, "naturally." He turned his attention back to the match, "do your best Mr. Norway!"

Switzerland glared up at the stands where the Norwegian fans were plotting on how to introduce Lichtenstein and Canada. He frowned, "I don't like your fans, I keep feeling like their planning on doing something dreadful."

Norway shrugged; he hadn't the heart to talk to them since yesterday's incident. "I assure you they're just a harmless bunch of kids."

That didn't seem to convince the neutral nation in the least. Norway felt sick to his stomach when he glanced over two sheets to where Denmark was sullenly in combat with England. Earlier he'd gone into battle against America, the Nordic suspected Denmark only won because neither had any sleep. Or at least that was his suspicions based on the fact the two members of the Awesome Trio not competing had fallen asleep on one another in exhaustion. Even though the trio was annoying he had no real grudge against them for trying to help Denmark. When he beat Switzerland seven to four, he couldn't help but glance over at the score between Denmark and England. His friend had lost six to nine; the Nordic was heartbroken to see Denmark just about break into tears when he shook the other nation's hand.

"Hey, are you in there Norway?" Switzerland pulled the Nordic out of his trance.

"Y-Yeah," Norway muttered with a sniff.

The two nations shook hands until a shout behind him caught both nations' attention. "Lichtenstein!" Switzerland shouted concerned. She'd tripped and fallen into a rowdy fan not too far from the Norway fan section.

"C'mon," the man announced, clearly drunk.

"I told you to leave me alone!" She shouted at him angrily.

Switzerland ran off, with Norway hot on his heels. He knew the other nation would be mad that he'd helped since it would technically break the whole 'true neutral' thing. But his bosses had drilled helping someone in danger into Norway's head over the centuries. They ran through the locker rooms and up the stairs arriving a few minutes later up in the stands. They pushed passed the crowd exiting the arena to where the man and Lichtenstein had been. To both nations surprise the whole front row had jumped up to the nation's defense.

Tenoh was holding the man by the collar, sunglasses pulled over her eyes. "If you ever try anything like this again..." she leaned in and whispered into his ear. As soon as she let go, the man bolted past the two nations and out of the room, as though the very hounds of hell were hot on his heels. Norway ascended the steps a little ways assured that things were in order. He glanced back down as he walked along towards the stairs.

"Lichtenstein," Switzerland pulled his sister into a tight hug. He looked up at the group, "thank you for saving my sister."

Tenoh stepped forward, "Mr. Switzerland... sir..." he swallowed, "my friend... um... he has a crush on your sister and wants to ask her on a date if it's okay by you!"

Switzerland's eyes narrowed and he stood up to his full height, "what friend is this?"

"My friend Matthew, I mean Canada!" The human announced, praying she wouldn't be shot.

Lichtenstein's face turned beat red, "Canada?" She smiled and let out a little giggle, the way people do when they find out that their crush is reciprocated. Switzerland fell silent, mouth slightly agape in shock.

Norway blinked, Canada liked Lichtenstein? He sighed, even the man most people couldn't see had a more successful love life than he did. The Nordic went back down to the locker room and retrieved his stuff. He walked back to the hotel hanging his head. He felt in need of alcohol desperately. And there was only one nation to go see when one of them needed alcohol. Twenty minutes later, Norway wandered over to the branch of Belgium's bar in Canada. She always set up shop during multi-day international events as a place for nations to get away from the chaos of life. He pushed open the door with his head and sat down at the bar.

Belgium welcomed him with a smile, "Evening Nils, what can I get you?" She asked while polishing a glass. It was a rule at her bar that along with the coat their nation names were left at the door. Here everyone was just a person looking for a drink, some food and good company.

"Evening Belle," he mumbled and sighed, "I'll start with two shots of akevitt. Strongest brew you've got."

Belgium walked over to the wall of alcohol while Norway looked around. The bar was mostly empty with all of the other nations off competing in one event or another. The TV played the hockey match between Belarus and Russia, though it looked more like Belarus and Russia skating around. It was almost enough to make one feel bad for the guy. He tore his eyes away from the screen to find Switzerland two seats over, his face lightly pink. "I hate you Nils... your damn fans ruined my day."

Norway blinked, he felt somewhat relieved someone besides Denmark was as disgusted with him as he was. "Sorry to hear that Vash. What happened?"

"My sister... wanted... wanted you hear to go on a date with Matthew! I don't even remember what the man looks like and she wants to go on a date with him?" Switzerland's head collapsed against the bar. He twitched and held up his hand weakly. "Shot of whatever Nils is having." The ordinarily stingy nation seemed to be in such shock that his penny pinching seemed to go out the window along with his trigger-happy irritability.

Belgium pored a third shot and set all three in front of the patron. "Vash I should warn you, beer before liquor couldn't be sicker, liquor before beer head in the clear."

He waved her off, "I know, but I don't want to induce forced vomiting... I'm a horrible brother... why me...?"

Norway sighed and took a sip of his drink, top shelf as always from Belgium. "Say Belle, can you give me some advice?"

"I'm all ears," she smiled and set down the bottle of akevitt.

"I kind of messed up," he confessed watching Vash sobbing on the bar chugging whatever was left in his beer bottle before moving on to his akevitt. "I was a party yesterday that some of my fans were putting on. Nice party actually, just like they promised with just good friends and good food. Feliciano and Ludwig were there too so Feli and I got to talking." He paused and took a sip. "He said I was in love with Danma and I denied it. Then we went to the buffet and he started to open up his mouth." Norway ran a hand through his hair smoothing out a few hairs that had come loose from his clip. "I cut him off by denying I had ever liked Danma. Guess who was standing behind me when I said it? He and the rest of the Awesome Trio showed up with alcohol at least to some degree uninvited." He clutched his head tears stinging his eyes.

Belgium watched the hockey game for a moment in thought. "How do you feel about Danma?"

Norway could feel his face going red, and it wasn't from the alcohol. "I... I... I don't know..." he knocked back the rest of his first shot and all of his second in short succession. "Dammit... I don't know!"

The bartending nation smiled, "I'm not sure what to tell you at the moment."

Switzerland fished through his pockets; the ordinarily stingy man put some cash on the table. "Have a drink on me Belle..." He almost looked like he'd sobered up until his head dropped back down.

Belgium smiled and put the money in the register before poring herself a shot of akevitt. She took a sip, "Nils, I think you might want to talk to either Feli or Berwald. Tino and Ludwig would also be good options. Vash, might I recommend trying to be supportive of your sister and Matthew." She smiled at both of them.

Norway nodded weakly, "right, another shot for me and one for you Belle." He set the cash on the bar.

Akevitt was a quite strong drink with a forty percent alcohol content. For a few minutes the Nordic felt his head buzzing rowdily, he saw Switzerland put more money on the table buying another shot. Half an hour and two more shots for the boys with a beer for Belgium and it was bar closing time. When the three nations walked out, Switzerland could barely stand and had to be supported by Belgium while she locked up. Norway and Belgium each draped one of their drinking companion's arms across their shoulders. The Nordic didn't feel great but he could hold his liquor, not to mention Switzerland had arrived before him, who knew how much he had to drink. They pulled him into the elevator and frowned, neither of them bothered to ask the now unconscious nation what room he was staying in.

Belgium pushed a button; "I'll take him back to my room for the night. He'll need a strong cure if he's going to get over this hangover to compete tomorrow." They pulled him down the hall to her room. She slid the key card through the slot before opening the door. They set Switzerland down on the bed, pulling the covers over him. "Good night Nils, I'll let you know how he is tomorrow."

"Thanks, and good night Belle," Norway sighed and walked back to the elevator eager to go to sleep.

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**A/N:** Yes Prussia is channeling Kamina. I keep wondering what would happen if Prussia ever got to pilot Gurren Lagan, other than the universe exploding from too much Spiral energy. I have no idea where these pairings came from… All I know is I was eating a slice of cheesecake when it happened. So please stay turned for some one shot action with Lichtenstein x Canada and potential Switzerland x Belgium. As to the pairing I talked about last A/N here it is: Chocobo Chick x Gilbird.


	8. vs China

**A/N**: A more reasonable length of chapter. All I have to say is I shouldn't be allowed to write romantic comedies. Every time I do, they turn tragic, but when I write tragic romance it turns comedic…

Disclaimer: I own neither Hetalia nor the music that Iceland is listening to.

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Norway groaned as he woke up the next morning, his head was pounding like crazy. He stumbled out of bed over to his suitcase, one hand fumbling for some jasmine tea, the other on the table searching for a cup. The Nordic found both; grateful China had gotten him for 'Secret Santa' last year. He staggered into the bathroom and filled up the cup with hot water before setting the tea bag in. His head throbbed while he waited. Soon enough the tea steeped, gratefully he took a sip of the tea accompanied by ibuprofen. Norway walked out onto the balcony enjoying the sobering cold air. He took another swig of tea and sighed, unaware he was only wearing underwear and pants while he stood in the balmy twenty-two degrees. Then again he came from a very cold place, so twenty-two degrees was bearable. Until the chill actually hit him, then the Nordic retreated into his room shivering before he pulled on his shirt and a jacket.

Stepping out with his tea again, he watched the sunrise coming slowly towards him, golds and reds filling the chilly air. He glanced down to the pond by the hotel. Two people were sitting on a bench also watching the sun come up. He took another sip of his tea, wishing it would be him sitting on that bench with someone next to him. The image of him leaning against Denmark by the pond as the sun's warmth found them made the Nordic turn brilliantly red. He downed the rest of his tea watching the couple on the bench stand and walk back towards the hotel.

The Nordic walked back inside and cleaned himself up. His stomach made itself known and demanded breakfast. Norway didn't have the heart to argue with it, so he went downstairs to get some food. He wandered into the restaurant, requesting a table for one. The waiter sat him down at a table for four and handed him a menu. He sighed and decided on pancakes for breakfast. When he set his menu down he found Belgium leading a rather dazed Switzerland. The waiter told them that they didn't have any tables left, but Norway waved them over.

Belgium guided Switzerland to the table, "Morning Nils."

"Morning Belle, Vash," Norway greeted sullenly.

The other two nations sat down with him and he passed around the menu. "Breakfast is on me, as an apology on behalf of my fans."

Switzerland's eyes widened, he loved nothing more than saving money. "Thank you..."

Belgium smiled, and then leaned over to whisper in Norway's ear. "Don't let him turn around, Lilli and Matthew are right behind him."

Norway nodded and checked. Sure enough Lichtenstein and Canada had ordered breakfast chatting over some hot chocolate. The Nordic enjoyed his breakfast with his newfound friends in peace, his headache subsiding quietly after a couple more orders of tea. He watched both of his breakfast companions exchanging awkward glances during the course of the meal. Funny, even Mr. Neutrality could fall in love, and both of them complimented one another well, both very level headed. All this romance breeding around him made Norway feel even guiltier about what he'd said to Denmark. Still he was happy for the two couples.

With the meal finished, they stood up and left the restaurant, Belgium hastily guiding Switzerland away from his sister and Canada. Norway bid them farewell and wandered off to his room. He pulled on a jacket and descended the stairs to go take a walk around the pond. The Nordic wondered vaguely what had happened to his own sibling. Though he didn't have to wait long, he saw Iceland in shorts come running towards him through the snow. The white haired Nordic seemed quite comfortable with his ear buds swishing in time with his strides. He stopped as he saw his older brother and removed one earbud, which let Norway clearly hear the song coming from it. "Eyjan mín, eyjan fagra græna... Eyjan mín, eyjan fagra græna..."

"What're you doing out here?" Norway asked sullenly.

"You know I like my morning jog." He replied, his shirtless torso covered in sweat despite the snow coating the ground from last night. "Even though you're a jerk, you should come with me."

"Right now?" Norway blinked.

"No in two weeks," Iceland's tongue scathed the air, "of course right now. I'll be waiting out here for you."

Norway hastened back inside and reluctantly pulled off his nice warm clothing and put on his tennis shoes with shorts. He glanced down at his chest, bare save for the dog tags once given to him by Denmark when they'd lived together in his house. He sighed and grabbed his iPod sliding it into his pocket. The Nordic realized he'd spent the last two days doing almost nothing but sighing at any given opportunity. A few minutes he walked out rubbing his arms towards his brother. Iceland's puffin sat on the ground next to the Nordic eating sardines happily.

"Took you long enough," Iceland scolded as he stood up. "Let's get going."

Norway put on his music and followed his younger brother around the pond. He noted the puffin flying overhead happily, and then watched where he was going. Not many people were keen on being out in this snow. They passed by China, South Korea and Hong Kong engaged in a snowball fight while Taiwan and Vietnam watched giggling. Italy and Germany passed them on a morning stroll with a wave, well Italy waved, while Germany looked perplexed at the two Nordics running around in the snow shirtless.

When they returned to the hotel, Norway seemed refreshed with the exercise. He checked the time and bid his brother farewell to get ready for his match against China. He hopped in the shower, hissing as the hot water hit his exposed skin. After cleaning up he pulled on his clothes and headed out to the curling arena. After he paraded in he shook hands with China, whose hair was soaking wet.

"This snow is really cold aru..." China shivered as they slid down to the house for the first end. "I saw you and Iceland earlier, how do you stand it?"

"I have no idea," Norway replied and pointed his broom where he wanted the shot to go. "You seemed happy playing with your family."

China smiled and whipped his snow-drenched hair out of his face, "it's nice to have a family who supports you aru. Sure sometimes you fight but at the end you really care about each other, no matter how much you get on the other's nerves."

"Yeah, I guess your right," Norway smiled slightly. "I should also thank you again for that jasmine tea. It's really as magical as you said."

"You're welcome," China smiled as the match progressed.

Despite the good cheer between the two, Norway's stomachache returned, as he looked two sheets over at where Denmark was playing against Canada. Canada waved up into the stands at Lichtenstein for a moment. Denmark's eyes leaked tears, though he wiped them on his sleeve, determined to hide his misery from the world. Unfortunately Norway had to refocus on his match. He felt so horrible he pored the energy he'd put in angst and depression into the match and playing well. He won against China seven to five, but when he looked over at Denmark, the Nordic had been curb stomped three to ten. Norway thanked China for the match then started to run over to Denmark. "Danma wait!"

Denmark glanced bat over his shoulder and glared daggers at Norway before storming off, "get the hell away from me Norway! I never wanna see you face again. I hate you!"

Norway stumbled and hung his head slinking off to his locker room. He felt like more alcohol would be needed. So he changed and walked off to Belgium's bar. Unlike last time the bar was livelier than last time, Taiwan and Vietnam had a table in the corner, while Canada and Lichtenstein had their table by the window smiling and talking. Norway sat down at the bar hanging his head, Belgium walked over. "Things go south with Danma?"

"Yeah, stupid bastard told me he hated me," Norway hung his head motioning for a drink. "I-I think I know how I feel now."

Belgium nodded wisely as she set a glass of akevitt on the table next to Norway. "Then why not tell him how you feel?"

"I can't. I don't want to make this any worse. Not to mention I play him tomorrow..." The Nordic sobbed and laid his head against the bar.

He felt a pair of hands on his back, glancing up he saw Canada and Lichtenstein standing over him. "What's wrong Mr. Nils?" Lichtenstein asked him curiously.

He rolled his head over, "don't wanna talk about it..."

"Come on Nils, we'll listen." Canada smiled, "we both owe you one after all."

"Need more alcohol before I can talk," Norway muttered.

Half an hour's worth of drinks later, and Norway felt bold enough to declare how he felt about Denmark. He sat up and put both hands on the table, "I... I... I LOVE DANMA! There, I said it..." he slumped back down.

The bar grew quiet for a moment; the only sounds were the TV showing the Italy brothers competing in bobsled, and Vietnam pulling out her wallet to pay Taiwan over their bet. Norway sobbed again and chugged his akevitt aggressively.

Lichtenstein rubbed his back, "it's okay Mr. Nils. There's nothing wrong with that."

"You don't understand, I told him I had never liked him, and he's been sad and pissed and pissed and sad ever since! And I mean pissed in both senses of the word." He sobbed trembling, Denmark was drinking heavily again and angry all over, just as when they lived together. "AND IT'S ALL MY FA-A-AULT."

Canada picked up a napkin handing it to Norway, "I thought he seemed rather depressed... That explains it then. Oh Nils I'm so sorry."

"S'not your fault Matthew, 's mine..." The Nordic slammed his head into the bar with another sob. "Dun wanna play him... 'M gonna go forfeit..." he wobbled to his feet setting money for Belgium on the table.

But the bartender nation wasn't about to have any of that. She stormed over, "oh no you don't Nils! Don't you know how many people are counting on you right now? If you go forfeit over some... some... lover's spat so help me I will call Elizaveta on you and have her lock you and Danma in a closet until you either die or confess your feelings! Now... who wants some pie?" Belgium's demeanor shifted instantaneously from scary warrior back to sweet businesswoman.

Norway sat back down, eating pie along side of Lichtenstein and Canada in silence, occasional tears leaking out of his eyes. Nothing like the threat of Hungary locking people up to scare the sanity out of you. He stopped with the alcohol and switched over to water slowly sobering up. Canada checked his watch, "I have to go. I promised Vash we'd be back by seven."

Lichtenstein smiled at Norway, "Matt has a match off tomorrow, we'll come watch you and support you."

"Thanks Lilli, Matthew, Belle." He smiled at them. "See you tomorrow."

They nodded and left holding hands. Norway drank another glass of water, watching some highlights of the snowboarding competition. Belgium smiled watching him for a moment before Switzerland wandered in, and sat down. The two began to talk, while Vietnam and Taiwan exited, both girls offering Norway a wave. He finished his water, put his cash on the table, plus some for Belgium as a tip. Then reluctantly he walked back to the hotel alone.

* * *

**A/N:** Well poor Norway, that's all I can really come up with. He needs a hug. I promise things will start looking up for him. Eventually… And for all curious the song Iceland is listening to translates as "My island, my island beautiful and green." Look it up on youtube, it's a good song, Eyjan Min by Bubbi.


	9. vs Denmark

**A/N**: Please don't hurt me for hurting Norway. He gets better by Deus ex Machina I promise! Well more like Scripta ex Machina… but still please don't hurt me! /waves white flag frantically/

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. I own neither the song at the beginning nor the song the crowd and Norway break into. And I apologize for more horribly broken Italian.

* * *

Norway woke up early the next day, and rather than showering he put on his shorts. After tying on some shoes while popping in his ear buds, he went outside for a run. He stretched out before taking off into the freezing air, since Iceland's habit had rubbed off on him. He frowned at the music, "I was sleeping and right in the middle of a good dream. Like all at once I wake up from something that keeps knocking at my brain. Before I go insane I hold my pillow to my head, and spring up in my bed screaming out the words I dread. I think I love you!"

He pulled out his electronic device debating whether or not to switch off the song. Norway decided against it continuing to listen to the song. "This morning I woke up with this feeling, I didn't know how to deal with and so I just decided to myself I'd hide it to myself and never talk about it, and did not go and shout it when you walked into the room. I think I love you!" He ran through the trees, noticing Iceland's puffin was following him. "I think I love you so what am I so afraid of? I'm afraid that I'm not sure of a love there is no cure for. I think I love you isn't that what life is made of? Though it worries me to say that I never felt this way." He charged off past a group of geese, all of them seemed to expect him to feed them. They swam away disappointed when he didn't.

He finished his two laps around the pond before heading back to his room readying himself for his match. He picked up his things, striding determined towards his destination. When he emerged from the lockers to his match, Norway walked up to the forlorn looking Denmark offering up his hand in the tradition. Denmark took it and put the squeeze on the smaller Nordic's hand. Norway stuck his first two fingers out along Denmark's wrist to relieve the pressure.

Denmark snarled at Norway as they slid down the ice towards the house. "I thought I told you not to show your face around me."

"Well I'm sorry for showing up today!" Norway replied, more harshly than he intended.

The larger Nordic cracked his knuckles, "damn right you should be sorry! I have no idea how the hell I fell in love with an insensitive asshole like you! I was stupid, as hell I'll tell ya that! Now I'm gonna make you and those fail pants pay for it!"

Very similarly to the display by Prussia, but with less show and more violent intent, Denmark produced a red battle aura. Norway watched his friend slide down to the far end of the sheet. He picked up a stone and gracefully pushed off. It connected with his guard stone to replace it, wiping out Norway's prior shot. Norway glared at Denmark as the larger Nordic rejoined him at the house. "Wipe that pathetic look off of your face, there ain't no way in hell I'll ever forgive you for this!"

Norway grit his teeth, his green battle aura calmly forming a bubble around himself to protect him from the violent aura of Denmark. Still Denmark declaring he'd never forgive the other Nordic wounded him deeply and it showed in his game. Going into the third end, Norway was down three to nothing. He clenched his fists around his broom. "I'm scum," Norway mumbled, "I deserve to lose..." tears stung his eyes until something caught his ears.

The fans had rallied in the stands singing a song he was familiar with mostly on the football pitch. "One for all! All for Norway! So come on! It's time to play! Dressed in red, white and blue! Until the end will see it through for Norway! In every way!"

Norway lifted his head up, eyes widening at the support. He saw the regular fans, Canada, Lichtenstein, and Belgium rallying for him. Italy waved over from his spot watching Germany playing France. He held up his broom, realizing if he won, then he'd get the chance to make Denmark listen to his apology and confession. "Vi gir alt! Alt for Norge! Ofrer alt, om vi må! Vi er røde, hvite, blå! Hele kampen ut skal vi stå på! For Norge!" That was right, his country was also relying on him, rooting for him. But he wasn't about to sacrifice his feelings, but draw strength from them.

Renewed in his determination he came back over the next five ends to lead the match five to three. Denmark's rage didn't subside, however, rather it intensified. He slid angrily over to Norway heading into the ninth end. Denmark seemed to have given up by then, angry tears streaming down his face as Norway made one more key shot. He expertly knocked Denmark's two stones out with the hammer shot, stopping it neatly within the two-foot circle. He won the match six to three, but when it came time to shake hands, Denmark shoved past Norway heading for the showers. Glancing up at Belgium, she nodded, and he took off after the larger Nordic.

"Danma wait! I have to talk to you!" Norway shouted rushing down the hall.

The larger Nordic froze, spun on his heel, shouting at the top of his lungs. "You think this is fun? First you break my heart and trample over the pieces, and then you totally ignore how I feel! Bastard! I hate you even more now!" Denmark drew his fist back to try and punch Norway. Rather that resist, he dropped his hands and let the larger Nordic deck him. Norway felt blood trickling down his cheek and welling up in his mouth.

"I needed that... Danma, I'm sorry. I only said what I did because I didn't know how I felt about you. I know that you'll probably never be able to accept my feelings now... and I'm okay with that because I know how I feel... I love you." Norway wiped his chin off on the back of his hand, eyes cast down.

Denmark frowned; stepping back he caught himself on the rail. He took one look at Norway bleeding in front of him, then at the blood on his hands. With a scream Denmark ran off towards the locker rooms, leaving Norway to pull himself from the hall. The Nordic walked uneasily from the room, wondering whether or not to go to the hospital or care for it by himself. Once he grabbed his things and returned to the hotel he saw the group of fans sitting around on the patio of the restaurant. Tenoh stood up, her black hair swishing around as she vaulted the rail. "You're hurt."

"Thank you Captain Obvious," he wasn't in the mood for company right now.

"You're welcome Lieutenant Sarcasm." When he tried to push past her, the teen put one hand on the Nordic's shoulder, "no way, you're not going in there like that. Darnell, can you do anything with this?" He nodded and joined his sister.

Norway stared, "is he medically trained?"

"Define medically," Tenoh smiled then turned to her brother. "Can you fix him up?"

Darnell studied the wound for a moment, walking around the nation before whispering in his sister's ear. Norway frowned at Tenoh, "what'd he say?"

"Said he'll try and this may hurt. I wouldn't worry though, best damn paladin I know," she smiled at the Nordic.

"Paladin? As in a magic user?" Norway frowned; half convinced the humans had suddenly confused their lives for a video game. Then again he could see spirits and creatures very few others could. Maybe magic would be worth a try, if it didn't the hotel wasn't horribly far from a hospital, he hoped.

"Best I know," Tenoh reassured as Darnell put his hand on the nation's face.

"Curare," the human muttered.

A bit of white light flashed from Darnell's hand. Norway's muscle and bone reunite together under the delicate touch. The Nordic wiggled his jaw slightly, he could still taste a slight metallic tang in his mouth but it felt solid enough. He faced Darnell and smiled, "thank you for that."

"Nessun problema." Darnell smiled as he and Tenoh hopped the fence back to their friends.

Norway headed up the stairs to his room and sat down on the bed pulling off his shirt. He'd have to get it dry-cleaned for next time. Fortunately he had the night off so he could afford to change out of his curling uniform. He hung up his pants and put the dry clean notice on his shirt, best let them handle the bloodstains. He leaned back against his bed watching the ceiling before he turned on the TV, annoyed at the silence filling the room. He sat up watching Finland coasting down a half pipe on his snowboard. He launched into the air whipping around happily with a laugh as he landed. He sighed and shut off the TV, with any luck there would be someone waiting for him at the bar he could talk to. Gravely he changed into his normal sailor outfit followed by setting out for Belgium's bar. When he got to the bar, he noticed Germany and Italy sharing some gelato by the window along with Switzerland on a stool chatting animatedly to Belgium. It seemed Norway's instincts about Switzerland had proved correct and he would be interested in pursuing a relationship with the bartending nation.

Norway slid onto a bar stool, but ten seconds later found Italy on one side, Switzerland on the other, Germany slid in next to Italy and Belgium stood in front of him. "How'd it go Nils? I mean it looked pretty shaky between you two. What happened after?" Belgium inquired immediately.

The Nordic took a deep breath, suddenly uncomfortable with all the people around him. "Danma slugged me, I apologized and confessed, and then he ran off. On my way back to the hotel I somehow was healed from my encounter. Then I came over here... he didn't say a word."

Italy pulled Norway into a hug, "Ve~ I'm sorry Nils I know how you feel?"

"Really?" Germany asked confused.

Italy turned red, "I-I mean not with you Ludwig! I just mean I know how it feels to suffer rejection!"

Belgium smiled at Norway, "first shot's on the house. I'm partly to blame for this mess."

Switzerland frowned, "I guess I can offer my condolences for this..."

"Thanks Vash, Feliciano, Belle, Ludwig." Norway sighed and downed some akevitt. At this rate the Nordic feared he'd be as much of a manic-depressive alcoholic as Denmark used to be. So he sadly downed the rest of his shot, cutting himself off at just the one. Instead he just had some water and a slice of pie. Italy and Germany continued to sit next to him, abandoning their table by the window and chatting. Switzerland had moved away, recognizing the Nordic needed some space.

Norway stood up briefly, excusing himself to go use the restroom. He walked away and disappeared into the tiny room at the end of the small hall. When he emerged a few minutes later, he spotted Denmark with his back to Norway at the far end of the bar. He still looked rather angry or sad, whichever it was, Norway couldn't tell from his current position, he didn't think Denmark would want to see him right now. Pressing himself against the wall, he beckoned towards whoever would look at him. Germany spotted the smaller Nordic waving and excused himself from Italy's side to see what was wrong.

"What is it Nils?" The tall nation asked with his customary frown.

"Ludwig, can you do me a favor? Well two... Can you give this to Belle to cover my tab but give me a boost up to the window here first?" Norway asked pointing up to the window just above them. The window was open and narrow enough for the small nation to slide out through.

Germany nodded, pocketed the cash Norway handed him and cupped his hands. Norway stepped into them then clung to the windowsill before hoisting himself out. He smiled at Germany, "thanks," and pulled himself onto the roof. With that done, Germany walked back to the bar and sat down sliding the money onto the corner. Belgium walked over, collected the money smiling at Germany.

"Hey! What happened to-" Italy started to say but Germany hastily silenced him with a quick kiss. When they broke apart a moment later, Germany gave the smaller nation a cautionary look, his eyes flicking over to Denmark. "Ooooh. Hi there Danma!" Italy greeted brightly.

Denmark gave him a half hearted wave glancing over at the uneaten pie. "Not feeling hungry today Feli?"

"Um... Yeah!" Italy smiled after a worried pause.

"Funny... Norway's favorite kind of pie is chocolate... and there're kroner on the bar... Norway's kind of currency..." Denmark sniffed and went back into his beer whole-heartedly for a moment. "Was he here?" Denmark's eyes narrowed on Italy.

The small nation's eyes started to water, "n-n-no..."

"Don't lie to me Feli, unless your home's been annexed by his," Denmark stood up approaching the pair.

"HELP ME! SOMEONE! HELP ME!" Italy cried, rivers of tears spouting from his eyes as he clung to Germany's shirt.

Germany stood up gently removing the smaller nation's hands. Both he and Denmark were the same height, making the stare down easier, "leave him alone."

"Not until he tells me if Norway was here!" Denmark snapped.

"Then I will have no choice but to fight you," Germany growled as his fists clenched.

Denmark smirked, "bring it on neat freak!"

But before the conflict could escalate, Switzerland stepped between them. Though shorter than the two he had strength to spare, "that's enough out of both of you. Danma, Nils was here just a few minutes ago, so stop causing trouble for Belle. Same goes for you Ludwig." His eyes trained on each of them in turn as he spoke.

Denmark stepped back and pulled out some money setting it on the bar, "fine, whatever, I don't need friends right now anyway." With that he stormed out of the bar.

Belgium scooped up the cash, "oh dear, I hope Danma doesn't go and do something he may regret later."

"Danma is scary!" Italy shouted as he curled up against Ludwig.

Switzerland sat back down, "I don't care what the problem is. He shouldn't force it on others."

Belgium shook her head and faced the direction of the hotel. "I hope Nils is smart enough to not go back to the hotel right away."

* * *

**A/N:** Denmark needs a chill pill and some cookies, while he and Norway both need hugs. I also feel bad for scaring Italy. Anyone curious for the lyrics, translation: "We give all! All for Norway! Sacrifice all if we must! We are red, white and blue! To the very end we'll see it through for Norway!" Anyway I was thinking I may write a sequel when the World Cup starts, since I'm almost done writing this story. It'll be more Denmark-centric so please look forward to it.


	10. vs Sweden

**A/N:** Hi everyone! I hope you're all enjoying the World Cup so far! It's been very exciting! Well beyond getting distracted by that, my laptop has had some issues and I've been in Denver training with my friend Bjanik in the art of parkour. So I hope you will forgive the tardiness of this chapter.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, but I now own a very cute Netherlands scarf to compliment my jersey. I also don't own Phineas and Ferb (yes I'm in the periphery demographic for the show. You almost have to be to get half the jokes in that show.)

* * *

Thankfully Norway was smart enough that he didn't stay in his room, just grabbing the things he'd need for the next day and moving into his brother's room on the far end of the floor. He awoke from the sleeping bag on the floor to find Iceland up and about making himself some licorice tea and bread with a bread kneader accompanied by a portable oven. "You know most people just bring laptops on trips, not materials to make bread..." Norway paused before smelling the bread in the air, "not that I'm complaining."

"Good, because you know it's rude to complain about the habits of people who take you in from the generosity of their hearts." Iceland replied but still handed him a cup. "You should be grateful I didn't decide to make breakfast tea."

Norway nodded, "very true." He knew full well his brother's wake up tea was a cup of very strange tea that's taste could only be described as hot lemon-lime sports drink mixed with an equally warm shot of Red Bull. The Nordic took a sip of the tea, relishing the sweet berry flavor tenderly tickling his taste buds. His brother lay down on the bed and popped on the TV. The machine clicked on and the white haired Nordic clicked forward.

The cartoon started playing bizarrely catchy pop music. "Bow chicka bow wow! That's what my baby says! Mow mow mow! And my heart starts pumping! Chicka chicka chu wop! Never gonna stop! Gitchi gitchi goo means that I love you!"

"You actually watch this?" Norway asked watching his brother watching the show.

"It's surprisingly good," Iceland noted and motioned for his brother to move.

Norway raised an eyebrow and sat down to watch. The fact the show was playing a love song only served to strengthen his conviction that he'd somehow ended up in a romantic comedy story in the middle of the tournament. Still he ate in silence without launching into a criticism of his brother's behavior and habits. They departed for the morning jog in the snow when the episode finished. During the two laps around the pond they passed by Switzerland and Belgium sitting on a park bench feeding some geese. Belgium waved while Switzerland frowned while they passed by.

"Hey Nils, Espen! Having fun?" She asked shivering at them.

"Wouldn't be doing it otherwise." Norway smiled as they continued on through the chill.

The brothers arrived back at the hotel, heading back up to Iceland's room. Norway popped into the shower to warm up and clean off before his match against Sweden. When he emerged he found Iceland feeding his puffin, "you should get going. Otherwise you may run into Denmark again."

"Right." Norway dug around in his sleeping bag case for a moment before pulling out a pack of licorice. "For your hospitality again."

Iceland held the pack for a minute. "Good luck you jerk."

The older Nordic grinned slightly, "thanks." He left the room, made a pit stop to grab his curling equipment then headed back into the frozen outdoors of Vancouver, well rather chilly streets. Norway entered the locker room, and then checked the schedule tacked to his locker. He had to play Sweden this morning. This made the Nordic perk up, if there was one of the Nordics who he could talk to about Denmark, it would be Sweden. Norway strode out to the sheet and met Sweden by the ice.

"'S good t' see you Nils," the larger Nordic greeted.

Though his expression didn't change, Norway knew Sweden was glad to see him. "It's good to see you too Berwald," he replied as they shook hands.

The two slid down the ice to the house to begin the match. Sweden examined him from behind his glasses, the smaller Nordic seemed distracted by Denmark and Germany. He pointed his broom to the center of the house, watched the stone slide down the ice and come to a neat stop, before speaking again. "Someth'ng wrong between you 'nd D'nma?"

"Yeah, I don't want to talk about it right now." He admitted, "want to get some lunch after this?"

Sweden nodded, "need t' go get m' wife first. Where d' you want t' go?"

"Belgium's place, and feel free to invite Tino along." Norway noted while he pointed his broom to take out Sweden's stone.

The two Nordic's fell silent save for their shouts at their teammates, though Sweden couldn't help but feel Norway had been through a lot the last week. He hadn't talked to his friend, mostly dividing his time between curling and watching Finland carving the slopes at the snowboarding site. His adopted son Sealand was off at the hockey arena with his friend Latvia watching Russia play. A bit risky, but still when he became a full nation Sealand would have to learn to deal with Russia on his own. As the curling match pressed on Sweden realized that Norway was bothered, not as bothered as Belgium had reported to him initially, but he needed to get his confidence back.

The bottom of the ninth end saw a tied score of seven to seven. Norway grit his teeth, he had a tough shot and no hammer to pull it off with, the cluster in the house would make it a difficult to nudge Sweden's closest stone out of the way. His best option would be a total house clear and hoped that Sweden missed his hammer shot. Resigning that he'd basically given the game away, he slid forward with as much strength as he could. The stone sailed down the ice without the aid of the sweepers, breaking up the cluster much the same way it had a few months ago in practice. Unfortunately none of his stones stayed in the house.

Sweden slid forward gently a moment later, neatly stopping the hammer within the four foot circle. That was it, final score Sweden eight, Norway seven. The smaller Nordic sighed, his second loss of the tournament. He'd been taking his losses for granted, but he had bigger things on his plate to worry about than some piece of metal on a string. He'd made the mistake of considering personal glory over Denmark, and it'd alienated the other Nordic even more than ever. He shook Sweden's hand, somewhat relieved at the revelation he'd just had.

"Thanks," Norway offered a small smile, "I think I needed that."

"Still w'nt lunch?" Sweden asked, seeing his friend had regained the calm sparkle of life in his eyes.

He nodded, "Sure why not."

The larger Nordic pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, "b' there 'n a little b't."

"Right." Norway agreed as they departed.

An hour later, Norway hung his jacket on the coat rack in Belgium's bar followed by Sweden and Finland. The three took a booth by a window while Belgium stopped by. "Nils, please tell me you're not ordering akevitt, you've almost emptied the last bottle I have." She scolded pulling out a pen.

"No, I'm saving that for when this plan inevitably fails." He joked grimly, "actually Belle, I'll just have some water and kjøttkaker."

She jotted this down, "Berwald! Tino! Long time no see! How're this year's Olympics treating you?"

"Just fine! How have you been Belle?" Finland replied brightly.

"Brilliant. You two want anything?" She smiled.

"Chef's special with a glass of milk please!" The shortest of the three Nordics declared.

"Palt w'th a bottle 'f tr'cadero." Sweden added in.

Belgium checked over the list, "Kjøttkaker and water for Nils, chef's special and a glass of milk for Tino, and palt with a bottle of the finest trocadero for Berwald. Anything else?"

The three looked at one another for a moment, "we're fine." Finland replied.

"I'll get that out as soon as I can," Belgium smiled and disappeared into the kitchen.

When she disappeared, Finland tilted his head to watch both Norway and Sweden. "Nils, what's wrong? Ber told me there was something going on with you. Are you okay?"

Norway shrugged heaving a sigh, then proceeded to recount the major events since the party, though he did give some back story in the first day of curling competition for story completion sake. He told how he had unfairly cut off Italy to deny how he felt about Denmark, about Denmark's reaction. His own binge drinking and spiraling depression. The Nordic addressed them about his apologies to Italy and Germany, his accidental hand in getting Lichtenstein and Canada together. He went on to confess how he thought that beating Denmark would make the man listen to him, only to get the man even angrier at him, breaking his cheek and needing one of his fans to patch him up with another to interpret what the first was saying. Finally he explained about having to flee the bar yesterday with Germany's aid and spending the night in Iceland's room to avoid their angry friend. This basically covered the events of the day, though he did neglect to mention how his hand in getting Lichtenstein and Canada together caused Switzerland to have started showing interest in Belgium, but only because that wasn't relevant to the plot as far as Norway was concerned.

Finland stared, his eyes wide with equal parts shock and amazement. "All that while I was off snowboarding? Wow..."

"Not th' issue n'w. 'S what t' do 'bout it." Sweden muttered, his fingers laced, thumbs forming a triangle with the tip resting against his lips.

A pensive silence fell over the group while they all considered Norway's options. During this time Belgium showed up with food and drinks for the group, recognizing the group's mood. Norway stared into the meatballs with potatoes and carrots sitting before him. He had no idea what to do now, his fingers fumbled with a container of lingonberry jelly while he ran over his options. He picked up his fork and started eating, trying to see things from Denmark's perspective, figuring thinking along the lines of his crush would give him some insight into his next course of action. Denmark was upset, angry, confused and probably overjoyed all at the same time, in other words he had no idea what this meant.

Finland paused in his attack on a rather large sandwich, "I've got it!"

Sweden paused from his dumplings filled with pork, "G't what?"

"I know what Nils can do! You can attack him and tie him down until you talk it out!" The Nordic sounded rather pleased with his solution to Norway's situation.

Sweden's eyebrow almost disappeared entirely behind his blond bangs. "'R maybe n't. D'nma's stronger th'n Nils."

"Ooh you're right... What about an anonymous letter telling him to meet you for a date? You can set it up for him to show up here, and we'll invite a bunch of people so that if something goes wrong we can restrain Danma until you get to safety!"

Norway's face drained of color, but Sweden considered this, "could w'rk... Which room's D'nma staying 'n?"

"A few rooms down, Gilbert's next to me. Then Feliks and Danma's at the end of the hall." Norway replied grimly recalling the other day when he'd heard Denmark in Prussia's shower singing at the top of his lungs.

Sweden nodded for a moment and thought, "you free t'morrow?"

"Yeah, but Danma has a match against Francis tomorrow night." Norway reminded them.

"So invite him out for a date between the matches." Finland smiled.

Norway put his thumb to his lips thinking, "alright, I'll go for it. If I'm going to put things right between us then this is as good a place to try again as any."

* * *

**A/N: **Things are looking up for our intrepid hero! I must say my spell check hated this chapter, but Sweden's such a sweetie. As to the tea at the start of the chapter, that was based off of my personal experience at a Zen Buddhist retreat for a week. The licorice tea was an evening tea served after the nightly meditation session. The lemon-lime one (sans Red Bull) was the morning tea served at the nice time of 5:45 in the morning with an outside temperature of 30 degrees Fahrenheit. Day one, I sit on my mound of cushions in my monk robes thinking how nice a cup of tea would be. I almost broke silence at the first sip, it was that strong. Second cup went down easier than the first.


	11. vs Big Brother France

**A/N:** World Cup's in full swing and the angst is in bloom. I have to say when writing this chapter I started to write all of France's dialogue, until I remembered I only rated this story T. And the angst is in full swing here... again... But I'd like to take this opportunity to note I do know France isn't Norway's older brother, but one of my favorite strips is "Manipulating Public Opinion with Big Brother France" hence why the title is what it is.

I don't own Hetalia, but I do own mad skills when it comes to falling off of a six foot tall box.

* * *

Confident he would be safe in his own room, Norway woke up in his bed at the hotel holding an envelope. He'd used basic print handwriting so Denmark couldn't decipher who sent it to him. Setting the letter on the table he took a hasty shower and got changed. He slung his curling bag over the shoulder then hastily left the room. He crept down the hallway and slid the note under Denmark's door before fleeing to the far end and heading down the stairs. He walked to the curling hall, one finger running along his beret praying his plan worked. After dropping his kit as usual, he ascended from the locker rooms to find France standing around, looking flashy as always.

"Ah Norway I see you've finally gained some elegance to your wardrobe." The scruffy nation smiled charmingly.

Norway shook his hand, "same old France."

"Aha, well I hear you have relationship troubles, ma fleur du nord." France flicked his hair while they slid down the misted ice.

Norway's normally neutral frown fell into his death glare. "First off, it's not my flower of the north, it's Norway. Second, it's not rela-" he paused. This was exactly what got him _into_ relationship trouble in the first place. "Okay fine it is a relationship issue but it's none of your business."

"Mon Dieu, did you really think that I wouldn't hear? Half of the world knows about your lovers spat with Denmark." France noted as they started the first end.

"Just because you heard about it doesn't mean that I need your help." Norway replied coldly.

The taller nation gave another of his hearty laughs, "well I can see why you and Denmark hit a snag. Such an unlikable personality, no wonder he ran away from you." He paused to sweep then stood up, "if it were me, I'd-"

"Say Darnell; is it just me or Norway turning redder than a tomato?" Tenoh asked her brother confused.

He gazed at the Nordic for a moment, "no, it's more of a blood red."

Tenoh whipped out her cell phone and snapped a picture, "alright, I'll send this to Boss Hungary." She tapped out a phone number then attached the picture, then clicked send.

Back on the ice, Norway hit a blue screen of death, well a mental stopping point. Everything France had said was so kinky that he'd just about clocked the other nation. The other half was embarrassed about the fact he'd been involved with the scenario. The finale of the third end saw Norway tied up at two to two. He'd barely managed to shake off what the other nation had told him.

"Ma fleur du nord, you seem to be a bit ill. Shall I fetch you some water?" France flicked his bangs while a few sparkles filled the air.

"No... I'm fine thank you," Norway mumbled.

"Well in that case I shall aid you in your quest to capture the heart of Denmark." France giggled and kissed Norway's cheek before whispering, "Now after the match-"

Another photo from Tenoh's phone, followed by another text message. The fan closed her phone then opened it dialing before placing it to her ear. "C'mon pick up, pick up!"

"Hello! Hungary speaking," the nation answered.

"Boss Falcon, it's Corporal Demon Dog, we got a situation at the curling ring." Tenoh noted, stealing her brother's binoculars and holding them up. "We could have a love triangle, type two. Orders?"

Hungary paused from the conversation, "Go Austria! Oh sorry, is the match still going on?"

Tenoh checked the clock and nudged her brother, "how much time left?"

"One and a half ends to go," he replied.

She frowned, "'bout another twenty minutes. What're your orders Boss?"

"Monitor for now, soon as the match is over run interference." Hungary replied, "I have to go, Austria just finished his run."

"Over and out Boss," Tenoh hung up.

Norway had a headache but he pulled off a two to nine victory over France. He'd never felt such a strange combination of lust and annoyance. So when he shook hands with France he was surprised to have been swept off of his feet. France had one arm along Norway's back, while his hand clutched Norway's. Somehow in the space of a few seconds France had removed his shirt, leaving Norway wondering how the other nation had pulled it off without him noticing, for lack of a better pun. "And now we go to Belle's and celebrate!"

"Um... France, this is all rather very sudden," Norway replied, his eyes scanning to see if Denmark was around. With any luck this plan would get the other Nordic to come to his rescue.

As France leaned in to kiss him a large black _something _tackled the nation. Norway fell onto the ground rubbing his head as he sat up. A large black spirit dog sat on France's chest barking. The Nordic waved the dog over, it wasn't unusual to see spirit animals hanging around him. Though this was his first time seeing Surma, the dog that supposedly guarded the doors to Tuonela in Finnish myth. "Great I suppose I'm going to die now."

"Nah, I was fired from the whole 'God of Death' post for plotting to kill all the other gods," the dog replied and licked his face.

"Well you know I was expecting Denmark to rescue me," Norway noted scratching behind Surma's ear.

The dog let out a bark, "well considering he's not here, I thought you needed saving. But don't you have to go?"

He stood up and walked towards the locker room, "true. I'll see you later okay Surma."

"Later," the dog wandered off disappearing into a shadow.

Norway gathered his things leaving France lying there unconscious. He felt a little bad about it but not so horrible that he would actually go help the other nation. He returned to his hotel room, showering for the second time that day followed by putting on his nicest naval outfit. He put on some cologne, and then swallowed as he put in his Northern Cross beret in his hair. He got in the elevator and rode it down, exited the hotel, and walked to Belgium's bar.

Up in a tree, Tenoh swung by her legs holding a walkie talkie up. "Demon Dog to Pirate Queen, Lionheart has entered the den."

Belgium put a watch up to her mouth. "Copy that Demon Dog, maintain vigil for Warrior Bear." She set the plate down and kept circulating through the bar taking orders. Switzerland found himself helping take orders while Belgium's brother Luxembourg worked the kitchen frantically trying to cook for all the nations crammed into the restaurant. Norway had taken the reserved seat in the corner fidgeting with worry. Up at the bar, Italy, Germany, Sweden, Finland and Iceland had filled in. If something went wrong Italy could raise the alarm and send the rest into action. Poland and Lithuania sat with Estonia, Latvia and Sealand, while Romano and Spain sat at the table next to them. She wished that they could have gotten more people here, but Lichtenstein and Canada walked in smiling.

"Table for two please Miss Belle," Lichtenstein smiled.

Belgium led them over to the table next to Norway, who kept glancing up at the clock frantically. She sat them down with the menu, and then she walked over to check on Norway. "Can I get you anything Nils?"

"No it's okay... he's late is all..." He mumbled hanging his head.

She smiled, "don't worry, he hasn't stood you up."

Norway sighed and hung his head, "alright then."

He watched her walk over to the group by the window, and then stared up at the ceiling. The Nordic was sure that Denmark would at least have had enough respect left for him to show up before telling him off. Soon the minutes turned into hours, still without any sign of Denmark at the door. He glanced up at the clock again, it was nine at night. Denmark had stood him up after all.

He wandered up to the now deserted bar hanging his head. The Nordic felt tears running down his face while Belgium finished cleaning up, she held up her wristwatch, "Pirate Queen to Demon Dog, mission failed, go and get some sleep." She set the rag on the hook by the sink rooting around on the shelf pulling out the bottle of akevitt. She pored him a shot while grabbing herself a beer before she sat down next to him. "Nils, I'm not sure what to tell you."

"Not your fault Belle," Norway sighed and downed his akevitt in one go. "It was a mistake coming here, I'm finishing the tournament, and then I'll be out on the first flight to Reykjavík."

Belgium sighed listening to the sound of Switzerland washing dishes in the kitchen. "I'm sorry. Anything I can do to help you out?"

"You've been a big help already, more than I could ask for." He gave her a hug before setting his cash on the table. "I'm sorry for putting you and Vash through all this trouble for me."

"No problem, and if you ever want to talk, you know where to find me," she smiled at him sadly before he got up and left.

Norway walked through the door and the gently falling snow, wishing the snow would also freeze his tears. Part of his country crossed the arctic circle, so he knew cold, hoping that frozen land would help harden his heart against the turn of events. He hugged himself walking back up the stairs to his room. He opened the door sliding inside. Once in he took his Northern Cross beret out of his hair, hurling it across the room. He pulled off his hat and went face down on his bed crying. He knew he deserved at least part of this, but it still stung deeply. He finally stopped sobbing as he fell asleep.

* * *

**A/N:** I'd just like to point out that I cried writing this and decided that starting next chapter I had to stop being so depressing, you came here to see these two hook up, and some curling along with pants on the side. So starting next chapter things will be more optimistic or my name's not: Valentinez Alkalinella Xifax Sicidabohertz Gombigobilla Blue Stradivari Talentrent Pierre Andri Charton-Haymoss Ivanovici Baldeus George Doitzel Kaiser III. (If you know where this is from you will get a cookie.)


	12. vs England and Netherlands

**A/N:** Very short curling match in such a long chapter. It was actually longer because I had the following match in here also. So I broke it off where I felt it could stand on its own two argyle clad feet. I'll be out of town for the next week, kicking butt and taking names, while (hopefully) doing the South African victory dance. Cause it's Nationals for Tae Kwon Do time, which means me spending a week in Florida being annoyed and as angst ridden as Norway has been thus far.

I don't own Hetalia, though I will happily hold a white flag in my right hand and a plate of pasta in my left! I apologize for my Italian and for last chapter's French.

* * *

The next morning Norway showered and pulled on his curling uniform, his bangs hanging in his eyes. He frowned at the blond curtain in his face but ignored it. He put his hat on and carried his things along the familiar route to the familiar hall. Emerging from the hallway he shook hands with England and followed the other nation to the house. The match proceeded in silence until Norway fell over on his way to his face heading to the hack to take a shot.

"I give up," Norway mumbled.

"You can't give up yet," came a quiet voice next to him.

He glanced up to see Canada standing over him with his hand out. "Why not?"

Canada smiled and used his other hand to push his glasses up his face, "you wouldn't want to disappoint your friends would you?"

"I guess not," Norway took Canada's hand and stood up.

England glared over at them, "who are you?"

"I'm Canada," the glasses wearing nation replied.

"Eh? Canada? No way! Come off it America you git!" The bushy browed nation snapped.

Norway shook his head, "no this is Canada, and he's my friend."

England just about fainted, his Teflon covered shoe sliding uneasily on the ice. "My head hurts, the last thing I need is another stupid wanker like America running around."

Norway nodded at Canada and continued on to the hack. He took his shot, took out England's guard stone and knocked his closest stone to the button out of the house. The Nordic slid back down, "I'd appreciate it if you didn't go around insulting my friends. Especially since I saw a large black dog with big black wings and a snake for a tail wandering around here. I don't think you'd want to meet it."

The other nation swallowed, and Norway's fury lasted long enough to beat England five to nine. "I guess I should apologize for insulting your friend."

"No worries," Norway attempted to smile but it just looked like a grimace.

With the match easily won, Norway briefly checked the standings; he had his semifinal match the day after tomorrow. And from the look of the stat board he'd be playing against Switzerland. Just his luck, now he had to fight against his new friends too. He sighed and disappeared through the halls back outside and to the hotel. He reemerged from the hotel in his running attire before dashing off around the lake. The snow crunched under his feet as he darted past people out enjoying the snow. When he ran out of breath after three laps, he stopped by a tree being sure to keep out of sight of the hotel. He sat down in the snow staring out at the icy lake. Norway sighed and put his chin atop of his crossed arms resting on his knees listening to music quietly. When he cooled down from his intensive work out he went back inside his head tilted down quietly.

He returned to his room ordering room service. When it arrived Norway ate his sandwich in silence, before leaning back against the pillows with his book in hand. The Nordic finished the book a few hours later, turned off his lamp and fell asleep. He awoke the next morning realizing he had nothing to do today other than wallow in anguish. He showered and changed before heading out into the snow deciding to wander around town for a while. A few blocks down the road in the opposite direction of the hotel, he found the playground of the park at the hotel. Jumping the fence easily he climbed up a giant dinosaur slide sitting inside the tunnel leading to the slide part of the oddly orange plastic contraption. His thoughts drifted to what would happen after the tournament. Would this be the end of the Nordics as friends? They'd still be neighbors but would they still be a tightly knit five man band after this? This made Norway sigh as he watched the thick grey clouds rolling by. If the Nordics broke up as a family it would be his fault.

Norway was so lost in thought he nearly fell down the slide when he heard the sound of someone climbing on top of the structure. He stuck his head out, craning his neck. He saw one of the last nations he'd expect; Netherlands sat atop the slide apparently smoking and cloud gazing. "Don't mind me Norway," the spiky haired nation noted without glancing down. "Though I do mean to tell you that you've caused my sister and her friends a lot of grief with your lover's spat with Denmark. I guess I should be thanking you for clearing the way for me to sweep our World Cup group, but you've caused my sister trouble and I can't let that stand."

"I'm sorry," Norway replied slightly hostilely. It wasn't like Netherlands would have trouble moving on anyway; after all two teams got to go to the Round of Sixteen.

Netherlands took the cigarette out of his mouth for a moment, letting a puff of smoke trail through the air. "From what I can tell you've been acting like an idiot. You screw up trying to deny how you feel and both of you get hurt. You try and apologize but fail to consider how Denmark would react. The guy stands you up and you turn into a suicidal jerk."

Norway's lips pulled into a snarl, "well what do you suggest I do?"

"Man up and talk to him instead of sitting here whining about how much your life sucks. Life sucks for everyone at some point, how you deal with it is what counts." Netherlands noted as he put the cigarette back in his mouth, "things go to hell once you try that it's on him, not you. Things work out, invite me to the wedding."

Norway almost laughed, Netherlands was almost as blunt Denmark, but he used this to state his opinions clearly and concisely. "And if he breaks my cheek again?"

"You got it patched up the first time didn't you?" Netherlands finally glanced down at Norway. "Besides you could stand to look a little more rugged. Now go get that man."

The Nordic slid down and waved up at the spiky haired nation, "I'm going to try. I'll phone in the verdict." Norway's hand made the motion of using a cell phone.

Netherlands smirked and muttered, "You know damn well I don't carry one." Still he gave the other nation a wave before returning to his cloud gazing.

While he walked back to the hotel, Norway mulled over the advice he'd been given. It seemed sound enough, if not a little odd. He wandered away from the park passing by shops and boutiques. He spotted Canada and Lichtenstein inside one of the shops. Lichtenstein seemed to be shopping for around but she kept looking depressed at all of the prices. Canada meanwhile appeared to be reassuring her, probably saying he'd buy her whatever she wanted. Maybe he should buy a present for Denmark while he was out. Wandering further down he saw Germany and Italy sitting at a table eating lunch, both of them waved him over.

"Hey Norway! You look happy! What happened?" Italy shouted as he stood up giving the Nordic a hug.

"Netherlands of all people talked some sense into me." Norway replied as he sat down across from the two nations.

Germany nodded then frowned in his trademark annoyed face. "What about Denmark?"

"I haven't quite figured out how to approach him, I know I have to talk to him, I just haven't worked out all the kinks yet." Norway noted.

Italy cheered, "Yay! I'm so excited!"

The waiter showed up with the two nation's lunches while Norway stood up, "I should let you eat."

"See you later! We'll be cheering you on at the semifinals." Italy waved holding up a fork laden in pasta.

Germany nodded, "good luck."

"Thanks," Norway waved and departed back towards the hotel. He climbed the stairs and walked down the hall to Denmark's room. As he knocked on the door he called out, "Denmark, it's me, are you there?" Silence filled the air while the Nordic tried the door. Locked. That meant Denmark was out; considering he didn't have a match today Norway wondered where the other Nordic had gone. He walked down the hall to his room and dug around for his Northern Cross beret. He picked it up and slid it into his hair before changing into his running outfit. After taking a few laps around the pond he found Iceland sitting on a bench watching someone across the frozen water.

"What's wrong little brother?" Norway asked as he sat down next to his brother.

"First don't patronize me, second, who's that chick across the lake?" He pointed across the way to where several people were gathered around a bench.

Norway squinted then instinctively shrunk down; Russia and Ukraine were across the lake. He knew his younger brother had been receiving financial aid from Russia, but how said brother couldn't remember Ukraine was beyond him. He'd been to enough World Summits and international sporting friendlies that he should have remembered Russia's older sister. "That would be Russia and Ukraine. Why?"

"I know I've never asked you for much. But you have to help me out." Iceland pleaded, his puffin squawking in agreement.

Norway leaned back rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms. What was it about these Olympics that made everyone suddenly start acting like love struck teenagers? Did Vancouver have some sort of weird aphrodisiac in the air, water or any combination thereof? Still it was his little brother who needed his help. "I'll do it on one condition, help me find Denmark. I'm going to set everything right."

"We have an accord. What now?"

"Go distract Russia, tell him you want to talk about the latest payment on his loans to you or something. I'll talk to Ukraine." Norway noted.

The brothers stood up and walked around the lake to where the other two nations sat. Norway shivered at the icy aura surrounding Russia, normally he'd avoid the other nation, but he'd brave the chill for his brother. "Hey, Russia, can I talk to you in private for a second? It's about the last loan you sent to my house."

Russia smiled, "of course." He faced Ukraine for a moment, "I'll be back in a few minutes okay?"

Ukraine nodded, "no problem." She smiled while Norway stood, folding his arms around to keep warm.

Norway tried offering up a smile, "so um Ukraine... I've heard you had a rough time finding friends in the EU." Though not a member of the EU himself Norway had good relations with all of the others since he also belonged to the European Economic Area and the European Free Trade Association along side his brother and Lichtenstein.

"Yeah it's been hard... most people only like me for well you know..." She replied shyly. He knew everyone wanted to be friends with her for agricultural trade profit. Something neither he nor his brother was obliged to unlike the members of the EU. "Not to mention I've never had many friends away from my brother and sister. I just want to get out into the world and maybe meet someone. You know?"

He nodded and smiled quietly, "yeah, I know. I was the same way after I gained my independence. I only knew my friends, so meeting new people was rather terrifying." Norway realized he was supposed to be setting up a date, "speaking of friends, I have someone I think you'd like to meet. Because I know my friend wants to meet you. Who knows you might even become friends? He's not a member of the EU so he's not interested in agricultural policies like the rest of the group. What do you say Ukraine?"

She considered this for a moment, "okay."

"He'll meet you at," he glanced over at his brother, making a watch checking motion. Iceland held up seven fingers, then pointed straight down, "seven tonight. At..." Iceland shrugged, "Belgium's bar a few blocks from the hotel?"

"Sounds great, but I have a question for you Norway. Aren't you cold running around in almost nothing?" She asked tilting her head in concern.

Norway forced himself to stop shivering, "I'm fine. I was in the middle of a run when my friend called me over to talk to you."

"If you're sure, I suppose I should let you get back to running. Seven o'clock at Belgium's bar, I hope to see your friend there." She smiled and waved as he took off.

Norway felt a little bad for abandoning Iceland to those two on his own, but his younger brother had dealt with Russia before so he didn't feel as horrible as he could. He headed back to his room practically sprinting to the shower when he reached his room. The Nordic jumped into the steamy water, and relaxed as the cold fled his body, he couldn't afford to get sick before his semi-final match against Switzerland. Pulling on what he'd been wearing before his run, he departed for the bar, eager to apologize once again for causing trouble, and to get some food. He arrived at Belgium's place, hung his coat on the rack and took a stool at the bar. Most of the nations had medal rounds so even the regular customers wouldn't be in until later. Belgium turned away from the TV showing Sweden and England in the middle of a curling match.

"Hey Nils, Braam told me he saw you earlier. You okay?" Belgium walked over to him.

He smiled slightly at her, "actually Belle, you're brother talked some sense into my thick head."

"He didn't bother you too much did he? Honestly every time he gets into the World Cup he's convinced that he's the only thing that matters to the earth." She panicked slightly. "I'm so sorry!"

"No really it's okay," Norway smiled, "bottle of whatever you want," he set enough money for two on the bar. Belgium retrieved some ale and glasses of water, "but I was wondering if you could set aside a table. My brother's on a semi-blind date, he knows who he's going with but she doesn't, least I don't think she does..."

"That sounds sweet, but I was planning on taking Vash out for some food so I was going to close soon." She smiled sadly.

Norway thought for a moment, "leave the bar to me, I know some people who can help out."

An hour later Norway found himself with the number for the fan room, knowing full well if he couldn't pull this off then a lot of couple's nights would be ruined. Tenoh answered the door, "Mr. Norway?" She asked pulling her toothbrush out of her mouth. "What can I do for you?"

He waved at Darnell playing the in-room game system. "I was wondering how you'd like an odd job for the night, maybe supplement income so you can buy some souvenirs for your parents. What do you say?"

"What's this job?" She asked.

"You'll be working in a nation bar. Your rolls will be two small island nations that have a population and just came to my attention recently. Humans normally aren't allowed in but I'm desperate for help. Can you do it?"

"I can't, I have a prior engagement, let me ask my brother." She walked back into the room and conferred. A moment later she returned with a smile, "happy to be of assistance. He's an excellent chef and willing to work the kitchen."

Norway nodded, "thank you for your help. Tell him to be there by six thirty so he can familiarize himself with the kitchen."

With that he left, headed upstairs and went to his brother's room. He knocked for a moment before Iceland answered, "What is it?" The younger Nordic asked.

"I got you the date but I need to borrow your puffin," Norway demanded hastily.

"Why do you need Eydís?" Iceland asked suspiciously as the bird landed on his head.

"I need someone to help me, and she's strong enough to carry a piece of paper back to the kitchen." He replied holding his hand out to the bird. She flapped over to him, "I got you the date. You owe me."

Iceland sighed, "Fair. But if you harm one feather on her head, well let's just say your love life will be the least of your problems."

Norway went to his room and changed into something reasonably suitable for bartending for a few hours. He and Eydís made their way back to Belgium's place and found her standing by the door with the keys. She jingled them at him, "closing time is midnight, earlier if all your customers clear out." She passed them over to him, "think you can handle it?"

He nodded, "I have Eydís to help me out, so we'll be okay."

"If you need any help, just call," she smiled and started to walk away.

"Don't worry about us, just go enjoy your date with Vash and leave the place to me." He waved as she walked back towards the hotel. Sticking the keys in the lock he unlocked the door and stared at the layout. Eydís fluttered over to the bar and sat down on it examining the silent TV. Norway stepped behind the bar and put on an apron, then picked up a set of instructions lying on the counter. Each had drink recipes for various cocktails along with several variations on how to make it. The nation saw someone standing at the door, and abandoned his post for a moment. Darnell stepped in followed by a black dog with red eyes hooked up in a dog sled sling attached to a wagon.

Darnell smiled at Norway, "ciao!" He handed the nation a note and disappeared into the kitchen leaving the dog standing there gazing up at him.

The Nordic read the note then frowned, apparently this dog would help out by carrying the dishes prepared and bussed in the wagon. If he had a lull in orders the dog could wander around and visit customers. Norway frowned, "aren't you Surma? What are you doing here?" He asked the dog rubbing one of its ears.

"Correctamundo, a word I have never used before and hopefully never will again. But I heard your plea for aid, and I came to answer the call." The dog replied.

He stood up, "you're welcome to help, but any chance you have a form that will not bother the customers?"

The dog considered for a moment, then the black fur turned white, and the red eyes turned blue and brown. "Better?"

"Much," Norway noted and walked over to the counter and picked up menus along with pieces of paper with the various menu items on one side and the quantity in the other column. "Help Eydís and put menus on all the tables."

The dog gingerly picked up the menus and set one on the table while the puffin carried stacks of paper on top of them. He heard Darnell starting up on pots of soup while the dishwasher had taken up the task of getting cleaner plates going. The Nordic cleaned the tables, polished glasses and turned on the TV to catch up on Olympic news. A few minutes before seven Iceland wandered through the door.

"What are you doing here?" Iceland asked while his brother sat down at the bar.

"Doing Belle a favor Espen. You want anything to drink?" He asked while glancing out the window to see if Ukraine would show up.

"You have any akevitt?" The younger Nordic asked.

"One akevitt coming right up." Norway declared pulling out a glass while his other hand took the bottle off of the shelf.

He pored the shot and handed it to his brother, while Iceland took a sip, Norway heard the door open. Ukraine took off her jacket and stomped the snow off of her shoes. "Welcome Katyusha," Norway waved, "take a seat anywhere you like." As she sat at a booth near the front, Iceland downed the rest of his shot then walked over to sit across from her. They talked for a moment, introductions and explanations abounded. Up until they hit one of those awkward first date lulls when neither party knows what to say.

Norway smiled and walked over to them, "can I get you two anything from the bar while you order?"

"Water please," Ukraine requested.

"Water for me also Nils," Iceland added.

He nodded and walked back to the bar. Eydís landed on the divider between the tables watching Iceland curiously, they filled out the order form, when the puffin swooped down and took the paper. She fluttered for a moment in the air before swooping through the order window. Norway brought over the water setting it in front of each of the nations. "So are you two enjoying the Olympics?"

"Very much, it's a lot of fun getting to be around so many friends!" Ukraine smiled.

Iceland's expression melted, "yeah getting to be around friends is great." He glared up at his brother, "though it's nice just getting to meet you."

Ukraine blushed slightly, "Espen..."

Norway could tell he should leave the two alone, so he went back behind the bar watching the television. Surma emerged from the kitchen pulling the sled with dinner inside of it. The dog parked next to the table, letting out a bark to alert them. Iceland blinked and picked up the plates setting them on the table. Ukraine reached down and gave the dog a scratch behind the ear, "good dog, and thank you for the meal."

Surma barked and departed back to the kitchen. Norway glanced back at the couple, and then frowned as he heard the door open again. Italy and Germany stepped through the door, "Hey!" Italy paused in his greeting, "Nils is running the bar now?"

"Yeah I am Feli; take a seat anywhere you like. Something from the bar?" He asked walking over, "when you want to order just put it on the sheet."

Germany nodded, "beer for me."

"Ve~ Do you have any wine and pasta?" Italy asked.

"I'll see what I can do." Norway replied.

A few hours later and the bar was jam packed, the Baltics plus Poland had claimed a booth in the corner, while Netherlands had taken a seat at the bar, acting as an unconventional bouncer. Canada and Lichtenstein had claimed a table in the middle of the room. Also at the bar sat a rather forlorn looking France and England. Eydís flitted in and out of the window delivering orders, while Surma hauled out wagonloads of food and bringing back empty plates. Norway frequently had to abandon his post to clean tables, but he'd had no complaints about the unconventional wait staff, or the cooking. Which meant his diabolical plan had gone off without a hitch. About eleven thirty at night saw Austria and Hungary departing the otherwise empty bar. Netherlands stood up and stretched from his corner stool.

"Good work Nils, buy a drink and call it a night." The taller nation muttered setting his tab plus tip on the bar. For the most part he'd been putting the tips in a jar for Belgium when she returned to work tomorrow. But he figured he could use a reward for pulling this off. He pored himself a shot of akevitt and downed it. He peered through the order window to see Darnell finishing off the last of the dishwashing. "Hey, good job today, you can grab something to eat and go."

He wasn't sure if the Italian had understood him, but a few minutes later the human walked out of the kitchen holding a small sandwich followed by Surma. "grazie e arrivaderci," Darnell waved and led the cart hauling spirit dog out.

Eydís chirped at him, Norway disappeared into the kitchen for a moment and pulled out some sardines from a tin. He set the tin in front of the puffin, watching the bird eating happily. They closed up at midnight; Eydís sat on his shoulder while he finished cleaning the tables and shut the bar down for the night. They returned to the hotel, while the puffin flittered one way down the hall, Norway returned to his room and went to sleep exhausted.

Back outside of the hotel Tenoh stood up from behind a bush hopping around in the nude. Since the hotel didn't allow pets for non-nation patrons she couldn't go back inside in animal form. Darnell leaned back against a tree, "you could have just worked in human form you know."

"Oh just shut up and give me your coat." She grunted angrily.

"Have it your way," he handed over his coat. "Do you think Mr. Norway will get together with Denmark at this rate?"

Tenoh put on the full length leather coat. "I hope so; I know that the Boss will never hear the end of the complaints if they don't."

* * *

**A/N: **Things are finally looking up for our hero! And I know aphrodisiac is more lust over love but the point still stands, everyone at this Olympics is falling in love. I had such positive feedback to France, I'm bringing him back as a minor character and may even write a France story about the origins of parkour someday... Spoilers for next chapter but your hopes will be realized!


	13. vs Switzerland Remix

**A/N:** Somehow the author's note for last chapter appeared here, even though I had a perfectly pointless pre-story quip here. Anyway, I'm home again, I took silver in point fighting. Got jilted in forms but hey that's life. On the other hand I look at it this way, I lost my forms division so Netherlands could win, and my sparring match so that Germany could win. I'd also like to wish a happy birthday to Alfred Jones, I hope you're new boyfriend is treating you well.

I don't own Hetalia, if I did then I'd make it required text in history class.

* * *

When Norway woke up, he glanced at his alarm clock on the nightstand. He blinked wearily at it for a moment before flinging himself out of bed. His semi-final match was due to start in fifteen minutes, he'd slept through breakfast, lunch, and almost his match. He tore off his pajama bottoms and underwear, grabbing a clean pair of boxers and his curling pants. One hand fumbled with his socks while his other grabbed his shirt. He stumbled pulling up his other sock while sliding in his hair clip. Sliding both feet into his shoes, the Nordic grabbed his broom and a fresh pad for the bottom. Running down the hall he ripped off the old pad and stuck on the new one while leaping down the stairs.

He frowned and glared down the street, one mile to the hall and ten minutes to make it. Kicking into overdrive Norway powered down the street towards the hall, using the ice to slide around corners. The Nordic dashed into the competitor entrance and down to the locker room just in time to follow his team up into the arena. He wiped the sweat on the back of his sleeve, then shook hands with Switzerland.

Switzerland took a hasty glance up into the stands where Belgium and Lichtenstein sat. "After the finals there's going to be a Dance Dance Revolution party at the bar. She wanted me to invite you."

Norway thought for a moment, he wasn't much for parties but he did like music, "I'll be there win or lose. Good luck."

"You too," Switzerland replied as they slid along to the house.

Up in the stands Belgium and Lichtenstein watched the match confused. "Who should we root for?"

Belgium frowned, her new boyfriend or her traumatized friend on the road to recovery. "Both of them?"

Lichtenstein smiled, she had a clear view of her boyfriend on the next sheet over, playing against Sweden. She had a Swiss flag and a Norwegian flag painted on her cheeks, while wearing Canada's favorite sweatshirt waving a small Swedish flag. "It's really confusing..." She frowned her green eyes studied the matches, "but I think you're right!" She stood up, "do your best everybody!"

Norway frowned during the fifth end and sighed, he was down five to four. He knew looking to the stands for support would be risky since all of his friends would be rooting for both him and Switzerland. But down by Iceland someone slid into the empty seat behind the white haired Nordic. Finland waved down at Norway and Sweden, "Hey Norway! I brought someone who wants to talk to you!" He pointed to the group making their way towards him. At the end of the line stood America, in the process of tripping down the stairs. Next to him was Prussia, making a vain attempt to stop his friend from falling, instead being pulled with him. At the head of the group, well away from the commotion stood a nation wearing a red button down shirt, with tee shirt underneath it. His jeans had a tear along the knee and his sneakers had seen better days, but the Nordic didn't pay attention to those. All he cared about was the messy blond spikes, the arrogant smirk and glittering blue eyes.

"Hey Nora! You screw this up and I'll never forgive ya for it!" Denmark shouted waving. "Awesome Trio, let's show these guys how we cheer!"

America stood up holding his pair of broken glasses, "Shit. I BROKE TEXAS! I NEED DUCT TAPE ASAP!"

One of the fans glanced up, setting down a compiled set of notes on curling stats, she stood with a mute look on her face. Though she hadn't said a word even the first time she met a nation at the curling party on the second day of the competition, Ace was willing to sacrifice some data for the sake of a peaceful match. Besides she was pretty sure her physics teacher would forgive her from stopping their neighboring state from falling into the Gulf of Mexico, as amusing as that would be to watch. She thrust out her arms at the nation, around each wrist was a roll of duct tape. "Camoflauge or Tie Dye?"

He blinked up at her, "one of each."

She took the glasses and examined the fracture, and after some brief repairs handed them back, "here ya go."

"Um thanks," He replied and sat down next to Prussia examining the new hardware.

Back down at the curling match, Norway slid along the ice, yelling at his sweepers to brush the ice as hard as they could. The stone collided with Switzerland's knocking it out of the way. Switzerland's next shot ended up grazing Norway's and moving it further towards the center before hitting the edge and being removed from play. Switzerland frowned as the end finished with Norway scoring two and moving into the lead at six to five. The next two ends finished blanked without a score from either of them, then Norway scored one more in the eighth before blanking the last end. Switzerland and Norway shook hands before waving into the crowd at the roar of applause and cheers. The two departed up into the stands, the Nordic trailing as Belgium rushed up to Switzerland.

"Oh Vash that was such a valiant effort, I'm so sorry." She hugged the nation tightly.

Denmark slid past his friends and walked up to Norway, his hand in the air. The smaller Nordic braced to hit the stairs but instead felt the taller's hand on his cheek. "You did good Nils, I'm proud of ya."

"Danma," Norway felt his eyes go wide, that was the first time Denmark had ever used his regular name. Not a nickname, not his nation, but him. "That was only the semi-final, don't feel too proud just yet." He looked over at the scoreboard then at the two nations walking up. He gave a brief smile to Denmark then walked over to where Lichtenstein had her arms draped around Canada.

"Looks like it's you and me in the final," Norway noted.

Canada smiled, "best of luck to you."

The Nordic held out his hand, "loser buys drinks and winner picks the song at DDR night."

The quiet nation shook his hand, "better brush up on your steps then."

"Is that a challenge?" Norway raised an eyebrow.

"You bet," Canada still managed to sound threatening, despite being barely above a whisper.

Denmark walked over, "come on, we have to talk."

"Right," Norway nodded, "bye Lichtenstein, Canada."

Denmark led the way out of the curling hall, down the mile long stretch of road to one of the benches by the pond at the hotel. The taller nation cleared the snow off with his hand then bade the smaller to sit next to him. Norway did so, putting a little space between them on the seat. "I'm sorry for what I said the other day, I didn't think about how much it'd hurt you. Can you ever forgive me?"

The larger Nordic folded his arms, "you remember what I said when I gave you that clip at our wedding?" Denmark flicked his eyes over the beret in the smaller Nordic's hair. "I said 'even if you hate me, it doesn't change the fact I like you.'"

How could Norway forget the aftermath of the Kalmar Union? Sweden and Finland had left the house, leaving Norway alone with Denmark for a long time. Then when his boss sided with Napoleon, he'd ended up being the prize Sweden got, resulting in a shotgun wedding that was basically the two just agreeing to live in the same house. It wasn't until 1905 when he and Sweden agreed to go their separate ways, though the two still remained good friends. But to say staying alone with Denmark hadn't been easy. The two had gotten married immediately after the others had left. For the next three hundred years he had to deal with Denmark's drunken rampages, the one who cleaned the house, the one who held Denmark when things went bad.

"I remember..." Norway sighed and hung his head slightly. "I'm still sorry though."

Denmark scratched his head awkwardly, "I should apologize too. I kinda overreacted... I didn't even listen when you tried to talk to me. How's your cheek doing? I thought I clocked you pretty good."

"You, you did, I mean, I had to see a paladin to get it fixed." He noted rubbing his cheek.

"That one of your imaginary friends?" the other nation asked.

"No, one of my fans. He's one of Italy's, magic user. Doesn't speak a lick of Norwegian, but I'm perfectly fine now. I promise."

Denmark watched him awkwardly, "that's good... I was worried... I want to make it up to you. I mean, it's not like it'd be a date, or anything unless you wanted it to be I mean, that is..."

Norway put his finger over the other Nordic's lips. "Belgium's bar. Tomorrow night? If things work out, you want to come with me to the karaoke party? It'd be a double date with Canada and Lichtenstein. What do you say?"

"Belgium's place, tomorrow, got it," Denmark noted. "But say... um it's only a few months until the World Cup... Want to kick around out here? I mean we'll be playing in the winter and all..."

The smaller nation grinned slightly, "alright. We can bat around for a few." Yes Denmark had beat him in the qualifiers, but he couldn't fault his friend for wanting a friendly.

The larger nation stood up, "cool! I'll meet you at the park, I gotta get my ball!"

Norway watched Denmark run off before standing and brushing the snow off of his bum. He walked back into the hotel, then changed into something more suited for playing soccer. When he walked down to the park where he'd run into Netherlands the other day, he found Denmark standing there bouncing the ball on his knee and head, juggling it fairly efficiently. "What took you so long?" Denmark called as Norway took his hat off along with his jacket.

"Had to put on some shorts," he noted while the other Nordic set the ball on the ground and put his foot on it.

"Alright, I'm gonna warn you now, I won't go easy on you just because we're dating," Denmark smirked.

The Nordic flicked his foot sending the ball to his left, Norway ran over and stole the ball charging down the field. Denmark came up along side him attempting to steal it back. His foot snuck in between the other nation's legs, flicking the ball away. He tapped the ball to stop it then reversed directions to run the other direction. Norway pivoted around and sprinted after Denmark. Both of them stopped when they saw Sweden and Finland standing by the fence. "Hey Bear, Ti, wanna jump in with us?" Denmark called out using his nicknames for his friends.

Sweden and Finland conferred for a moment then slid through the narrow entrance to the field. "I'll be on Danma's team, Svi can be with Nils." Finland declared as he walked over to Denmark.

"Which w'y are w' going?" Sweden asked his new teammate.

"Back that way," Norway pointed his thumb over his shoulder.

The teams of two faced off again, but over the course of the hour, eighteen more people showed up. First Iceland and Ukraine were out on a walk before getting involved, then Germany and Italy showed up en route to getting some dinner. Following those couples, Belgium and Switzerland, accompanied by Canada and Lichtenstein jumped in too. Tenoh and Darnell had wandered by on their return from a shopping expedition and jumped in. After the twins came the Baltic trio plus Poland and Sealand, Netherlands dropped by, and finally the other two members of the Awesome Trio in search of their third hopped the fence into the game.

Norway put his foot on top of the ball and glanced over at his midfielders. Iceland and Germany stood on either side of him, he flicked the ball up and over Latvia's head to Iceland. His brother charged up the field past Prussia heading towards the goal. Finland cut inside and kicked the ball out of bounds. Iceland walked over and picked the ball up examining his options. He had Lithuania and Netherlands standing by with Germany a little further back. He tossed it over to Germany, who trapped it and started to jog down the field.

Unfortunately a scene that had plagued him since the World Cup four years ago at his house returned to haunt him again. Italy came flying out of nowhere and latched onto him with cries of: "Germany! Germany! Hug me! Hug me!" Germany turned both flushed and pale at the same time reminiscing at the familiar sight in the semifinal match against Italy. The Italian team strategy seemed entirely based around removing him as a player, by having Venitizano glomp him. Norway had been reffing the match, only able to shrug instead of calling a foul because of a lack of malicious intent. So with Germany rendered harmless, play defaulted to Prussia, who was easily outmanuvered by Romano, when the latter wasn't spouting insults at Spain up in the stands.

"Germany! Germany! Hug me! Hug me! I love you!" Italy shouted burying his face in the larger nation's chest.

"I love you too, but I'm trying to play right now." Germany used the exact same excuse as he did back then.

Unfortunately for Germany, Darnell had stolen the ball at some point in the exchange and engaged in a passing triangle with Norway and Lithuania. Denmark slid in trying to steal the ball away. He succeeded and booted it down the pitch to a waiting Canada. The oft-invisible nation ran with it for a bit before sliding it over to Switzerland. Netherlands was marking him closely and it forced the neutral nation to pass it off to Sealand. Bounding with over confidence, the small nation ran through the defensive line to the waiting Tenoh between the pipes. He kicked it as hard as he could, but after a strange dark flash and a suspicious hissing noise, he saw the human standing there holding the ball checking her options. She waved over to Italy out on her right and struck it expertly at him.

Italy deftly dodged around anyone in his way, his first pass to Poland, who in turn kicked it over to Estonia. After a nervous glance around he passed it off to Ukraine. She saw Prussia running for her, and in a panic kicked it hard into the air towards Sweden. The larger nation shot for the corner of the goal full force. Between the posts, America flung himself at the ball and caught it holding it to himself for a moment making sure neither Sweden nor Lithuania could take it from him. He booted it across the field to no one in particular, leaving Tenoh to fetch it. She kicked it over to Netherlands watching the team spread like butter on toast. The large nation powered down the field, deftly dodging Germany and Prussia before kicking it over to Norway. The Nordic passed it off to his brother, who after a rebound pass from Lichtenstein kicked it into the air towards Italy. The nation jumped up into the air executing a picture perfect bicycle kick that would have made even Brazil nod in approval. It tipped off of America's hand into the net and the team cheered while the blond nation retrieved the ball.

Everyone glanced up as the light faded from the sky, too dark to play now without the lights only a large stadium could provide. So instead the party shook hands and departed from the field talking loudly. Denmark had his arm around Norway in a slightly possessive manner. In the back Tenoh snapped a picture and tapped out, "To: Boss Hungary, Mission Successful."

* * *

**A/N: **As my idiot puppy pointed out mission successful. The problem: THE STORY'S NOT DONE YET. Also, a couple of chapters ago I had a contest for the person who could correctly spot a reference in the A/N. The two winners are Klooqy and InsomniacFrenchToast. Klooqy had the first guess and it was correct, however the story in question originally referenced what InsomniacFrenchToast pointed out, Trigun. So both of you will get a batch of cookies, and a basket full of Whose Line is it Anyway? points.


	14. vs Canada Remix

**A/N**: I don't know how in the seven kingdoms and eight planes I managed to come up with the DDR contest. It was going to be karaoke, until I realized, I always write karaoke in some form or another. So daring to be different they will be dancing.

I don't own Hetalia, otherwise every day would be Christmas with France.

* * *

The next morning, Norway awoke bright and early for a run, only to find a very drunken Prussia and America lying on top of one another in the hallway. Both were in a compromising position. One that he was sure would attract Hungary and her legions of minions like flies to vinegar. Carefully avoiding the lot of them he went for his morning run. Outside he saw France also up, desperately trying to impress England with his freerunning skills. The Nordic had to dodge swiftly as the other nation bailed out of a wall flip. "Sorry ma fleur du nord! And félicitations to you and Denmark!"

He waved back as England helped France to his feet, pressing on with his exercise. On his next lap he saw France walking on all fours along the wall to the hotel pool. Had he been wearing cat ears, Norway was sure he wouldn't have been able to tell the difference between the nation and a real cat. The Nordic disappeared inside and after a brief shower and change he set out for the final against his new friend Canada.

Norway arrived at the hall well before the match was set to start. In fact the hall was empty, light fixtures off and devoid of fans. He stared up into the stands, then back over his shoulder. Win or lose, he felt happy. A noise from behind him startled him; Canada had also arrived early with Lichtenstein over in the next lane. He stood over her helping her learn proper sweeping technique. He smiled and skated along the ice for a while collecting his thoughts, until he heard the doors open again. Denmark wandered in and hopped the railing down to the competition floor.

"Danma, what're you doing here?" Norway asked surprised.

"What am I doing here? Am I not allowed to watch my boyfriend compete?" Denmark laughed and walked down the carpet between the lanes.

He smiled slightly, "I suppose you can. I'm just a little nervous today, Canada's my friend and a really strong competitor."

The smaller nation felt the pair of strong arms around him. "No need to be nervous, competing against your friends is some of the best competition you can get. You know how to push each other to be better and at the end of the day it'll only strengthen your friendship."

"I guess so," He noted as he saw some fans starting to trickle into the arena. Among them the twins, Iceland and Ukraine, the group of four sat down in the front row. After them came the rest of the Nordics and the Awesome Trio saving a seat for Denmark. Filling out the row were Belgium and Switzerland also with a seat saved for Lichtenstein. Italy and Germany arrived shortly after taking the seats behind Iceland and Ukraine. More humans pored into the area, with Netherlands sliding in on the opposite end of the row from Germany behind his sister. Norway bade Denmark farewell and retreated to the locker rooms to confer with his team before the opening of the final matches.

When he reemerged from the tunnel he shook hands with Canada, and the two friends slid down the ice together settling in at the house for the first end. "So Canada, you still on for the bet?" The Nordic asked as one of the Canadian team slid his first shot down.

"Naturally," Canada replied, the thrill evident in his voice.

Norway started to reply while pointing to where his team's first shot should go. But when the shooter started to go during the polite silence in the audience someone let out a loud horn. Thankfully it wasn't a vuvuzela like at the Confederations Cup last year, but it served to distract the human enough to throw off the shot.

Both of the nations' eyes scanned around the arena for who had done something disrespectful to the sport. The pants had been one thing, Norway knew that his pants could be seen as disrespectful to the sport, but for the most part his friends had seen them as bringing some levity to the often too stoic ice. But this, this was just plain rude. The two silently agreed to try and ignore the ignorant human for now, pressing forth with the match. But with Norway down three to nothing at the end of the fifth end, the horn-blowing idiot had become a nuisance to the whole crowd. They clearly wanted Canada to win but this could be considered by some sabotage. However Norway knew the other nation wasn't capable of this, at least not with his girlfriend, brother, and the rest of the world watching. His blue eyes flicked up to Denmark, who frowned and nodded. He had to at least finish the game without losing by nothing. The large Nordic stood from his seat, slasher smile in place. "Anyone wanna help me find this bastard and give him a peace of mind from us?"

The twins stood up along with the rest of the Awesome Trio. Denmark nodded at his ragtag five-man band and they departed to hunt down this person who'd basically made him or herself an international sports event criminal to be dealt with by vigilante justice.

Norway slid down the ice to take a shot, now worried about whether or not he'd hear the awful horn to snap his concentration. He picked up a stone and frowned down the ice, one foot gently against the hack. He waited for a moment, and then pushed off, sliding on his Teflon covered shoe and leg, broom out to the side to balance, the stone gently leaving his hand. It took out Canada's stone and the timid nation decided to keep the hammer into the next end, placing Norway on the board with two glorious points. He kept up his momentum through the next end to steal another point tying the match at three all.

But the horn blower had done irreparable damage, which when combined with Canada's epic curling skills defeated Norway six to three, leaving Norway to take the silver medal. As the teams shook hands, Canada hugged Norway, "thank you so much for everything Norway. I really appreciate it."

"No problem Canada," He replied hugging the other nation back.

"But I do have one more request... if you don't mind that is." Canada stepped back and pushed his glasses up his nose.

"Sure. What is it?" Norway asked with a slight smile.

Canada turned a little red, "could I have a pair of your pants? I mean they're just so cool..."

Norway, who despite his cold exterior had as much of a problem with ripping off his clothes in public as Italy did, pulled off his pants on the spot and handed them over to Canada. One of his teammates ran to the locker room and brought his other pair. The Nordic handed over the clothing to Canada, whose face lit up with glee as he took them. "I feel so honored!" Norway pulled on the other pair, enjoying getting to help out a friend.

"Come on, let's go get our awards." He smiled, and they walked over to where Sweden and Switzerland stood on the podium ready to receive their medals. Canada hopped up onto the number one spot while Norway stood beside on the number two. Each of the nations received their awards while 'Oh, Canada' filled the stadium and all of the Canadian supporters along with the team members sang along. When the press got their photos and brief interviews the four nations looked up to where their love interests had been sitting. Iceland waved them over to the empty bleachers, Ukraine smiling beside him.

"Where'd 'veryone go 'spen?" Sweden pondered.

"They're all outside, said something about a tarring and feathering. Apparently the so-called 'Five Man Awesome Band' caught the guy who was disrupting the match. Belgium and Netherlands went to the bar with Lichtenstein to get the party set up, Finland went to go watch the tarring, Germany went to go stop Prussia from getting arrested and Italy had to go to the bathroom but then he was going to follow Germany. Danma told us to wait here and let you all know where they went." Iceland replied in what had to be the longest single monologue of his life.

Switzerland and Canada bade their friends farewell then departed to the bar. Sweden and Norway left the arena to find the mob of people Iceland described standing around outside of what had to be the most hastily constructed dunk tank. Denmark stood atop the rig resetting it every time, while Darnell collected the baseballs for throwing. America stood at the dunk tank laying down more money at Tenoh's fingertips while Germany had restrained Prussia from participating.

"Step right up and try your luck! One dollar, Euro, or other currency gets you three shots! Say there you with the fancy pants you want to give it a shot?" Tenoh called, dressed to the nines like someone at an old time carnival or barbershop quartet. "Show this guy here how to throw a ball!" She pointed at America who hadn't succeeded in dunking their victim.

Finland walked over and gave Sweden a hug. "Come on Svi! The police said it was illegal for us to pour hot tar and feathers all over him and they hated all of our other suggestions so we had to come up with something they said would be legal. I spent twenty Euro trying to get him but I couldn't!"

Sweden turned slightly pale and guided Finland away from the dunk tank. America scrambled around in his pockets for more money but to no avail. "Do you take plastic?" He asked hopefully.

"Sorry sir cash only. What'd ya say mister? Want to take a shot at this punk?" Tenoh asked as she packed the money in a box. Apparently all the cash would be going to fund curling programs for underprivileged children.

Norway figured revenge and a good cause would be worth it. He set a kroner down on the table, "set me up."

Darnell retrieved the baseballs and set them on the table. The twins stepped out of the way while Denmark leaped off the rig, not wanting to get wet in the sub zero air. Norway picked up his first shot, hurled it at the target and missed by a mile. His second shot hit the pad and bounced harmlessly into the snow. His last shot however hit the drop button dead center plunging the human into the frozen water below.

Tenoh applauded, "thank you for helping us help everyone."

Norway smiled, "no problem."

Denmark strode over and seized Norway's hand gently. The smaller nation blushed slightly as they walked away. Down the street they wandered into various little shops lining the streets of Vancouver, passing the time until the party. Norway picked up a book for his return flight to Oslo, while Denmark had, Norway hoped jokingly, picked out some lingerie. They dropped their purchases at the hotel then sat outside by the lake. "Say Nils, is it just me or is your beret out of place?" Denmark's hand reached around and tilted Norway's head to examine it.

"I um... I doubt it," Norway replied, suddenly acutely aware of Denmark's proximity to him.

"Let me fix it," Denmark offered leaning in closer.

Norway felt Denmark's warm breath on his lips, and he had the chance to examine the heroic face above him with great interest. His face heated changing to a bright shade of red before he pulled away when Denmark finished. Smiling he stood up holding out his hand. "It should be time for the party. I promised Canada we'd make it a double date. Not to mention I lost a bet to him along with the match."

Denmark accepted the help up and held on to Norway's hand as they walked along. "So this Canada... he a friend of yours?" In all of the world summits and international sporting events Denmark had attended he couldn't recall ever meeting Canada, much less what the nation looked like.

"He's very quiet and some people forget he's there, but Lichtenstein's slowly bringing him out of his shell." Norway replied.

Denmark's eyes widened, "you tellin' me he's got a death wish? Everyone knows Switzerland's sister is off limits! Anyone who tries to get near her gets a bullet to the brains!"

Norway shrugged and leaned against Denmark's arm, "You used to be the same way with us. At least up until France invaded your vital regions."

Denmark's face turned into a comedic grimace while Norway smiled, "oh don't remind me of _that_."

Speaking of France, the flirtatious nation flew overhead between the lampposts. One hand clutched the pole he stood atop while the other had some article of clothing that looked suspiciously like the flag of Great Britain. "Bonjour! Ah Norway and Denmark! Tre bien! Enjoying the night, ne? If you see England, please, ah, decline telling him which way I went! Au revoir!" He yelled down from the light before jumping into the trees.

A moment later England burst through the bushes in front of the couple, his face was red, discomfort etched into his features. "You two see France go by here?" They both pointed to the trees where the other nation had disappeared through. "Thanks." England ran off again shouting, "France you bloody bastard! Give me back my underwear! You're so dead when I catch up with you!"

Waiting with an awkward glance until the bushy browed nation was out of earshot the two burst out laughing. Denmark pulled Norway into a hug, "I missed you. Y'know?"

"I missed you too," Norway smiled leaning against the taller Nordic's chest. They resumed their stroll a few minutes later, arriving at the bar in time for the party.

Canada and Lichtenstein waved them over to a table in front of the dance pad stage that had appeared near the back of the bar. The pair sat down next to the other couple but refused to let one another's hands go. "Glad you could join us." Canada smiled, though he gave a nervous glance to Denmark.

Lichtenstein bowed her head, "It's a pleasure to meet you Mr. Danma, Nils has told us a lot about you."

"All of it bad I'm sure," Denmark replied with a generous smile.

Norway stared up at the machine, suddenly remembering how much he hated dancing. He'd never danced much anyway, that was mostly tone deaf Denmark in the shower's territory, his lack of rhythm synching up with his lack of vocal talent. He closed his eyes wishing he didn't have to sing right away. However Canada noticed his discomfort, being invisible made it incredibly easy to observe his fellow nations behavior. "Nils, you don't have to dance if you don't want to. I know there's a karaoke option, though I'm sure most of the songs are in French."

Norway shook his head, "no, it's okay Matthew, we shook hands on it as friends. Besides we can do a dance off. Your French is better than mine and the last thing I need is you and Francis coming after me with a chainsaw for pronunciations butchery while singing."

Canada considered this then nodded, "fair enough. You're still buying drinks though."

"Deal," the two stood up, "we'll be back in a minute." They departed for the bar to procure refreshments and maybe even dinner.

Denmark leaned back on two chair legs, twirling the silverware bundle around on the table. Lichtenstein felt awkward sitting in silence. She gazed at her new friend then swallowed, "if you ever make Nils cry again, then I will beat you up until you apologize to him. If that doesn't work then I will invade and take over your country until you do."

The Nordic almost fell out of his chair, "um er..." he picked himself up then bowed his head. He must have caused Norway a lot of trouble if _Lichtenstein_ was threatening. Then he remembered that she had no army with which to defend herself, much less invade. A laugh caught on his throat turning into a cough as he realized the reason that no one had ever attacked her. She may not have an army because her army was the _Swiss Army_. He knew from personal experience that Switzerland was not to be messed with, whether at a convention of the EU members, or on the battlefield. When he tilted his head up, he found Lichtenstein's hand out, pinky extended towards him.

"Promise me you won't make him cry again," she stated again seriously.

He nodded weakly locking his pinky with hers, "I promise Lilli, he won't shed another tear cause of me."

"Good," She smiled and waved as their dates returned with drinks. "Now who wants first song on the machine! I know something that's really cool!"

Canada clapped Norway on the back, "we'll go. You two seem to be getting along well."

"Okay! I sure hope you've been watching Internet videos then!" She smiled and walked up to the machine setting it up for the guys. The two nations stepped up onto the dance pads while the lights blared.

"ARE YOU READY? HERE WE GO!" The announcer on the screen shouted, and immediately set off into Dragostea Din Tei, or more commonly known to citizens of the Internet as Numa Numa. There was just one problem, Norway couldn't dance, and Lichtenstein set the game to Expert. The arrows started to fly up the screen; he swallowed and just followed the steps. Pretty soon he hit his stride, but the heater plus the effort of dancing made him rip off his jacket and shirt to try and cool down. He'd forgotten to change out of his curling uniform, and so danced around the platform in his curling pants with just the hem of his boxers showing. "FREE STYLE!" The game announced cutting to a break in the music, where Canada and Norway cut loose with their dance moves. Norway spun around dropping to the ground and spinning around on his hands in a back flip windmill combination. He stood up as Canada did some very epic disco steps before they resumed their button-mashing dance. When the song finished, the score calculator came up, "IT'S A TIE! ROUND TWO!"

"Do your best!" Lichtenstein called while the song selector hit random.

"ARE YOU READY? HERE WE GO!" Norway panted for air slightly, was it just him or was the machine rigged to ensure he would be exhausted now. Not to mention when he hear the first notes of the song he realized the machine's playlist had to be 'History of Memes'. He wondered if Sweden was in the room since the song in question was Caramelldansen, a song that happened to be in Swedish. Once again Canada and Norway entered into the heat of a dance off before leaning up against the rails when the song had finished. Norway put his hands on his knees trying to catch his breath. Sadly, the game had the sadistic personality most commonly found in some authors. "IT'S A TIE! FINAL ROUND!"

Then the song came on and Norway frowned; now it went from History of Memes, to Classical Fight Anthems. "Choose your destiny. Flawless Victory." Of course the final round would be set to the Mortal Kombat theme. Still he danced around touching the arrows in time with the line, trying to not pass out. Canada's combo multiplier hit a snag when he barely missed stepping on the pad and destroyed his combo multiplier. Still he built it back up and finished the song. The points tallied and showed that Norway had won it in the third round.

The two shook hands, "good dance." Canada smiled at his friend.

"You too," Norway replied as they sat next to their dates.

Several hours and a lot of dancing later saw Norway and Denmark making their way out of the bar. Both were still surprisingly sober and still singing at the top of their lungs. "Go go Power Rangers! Go go Power Rangers! You Mighty Morphin' Power Rangers!" They both stopped to catch their breath laughing. The quiet of the night finally caught up with the two, when Norway decided to ask a question of Denmark he'd been meaning to since two days prior.

"Hey Danma," he stopped and clutched Denmark's hand nervously.

"What is it Nils?" the larger Nordic asked.

"What made you come back and want to talk to me?" The smaller nation muttered sternly.

Denmark paused for a moment, "well... I was pretty upset, and the day before the semifinals I'd gone on a walk to try and figure out how I felt. I ran into Netherlands and we talked. He said that if I didn't get my act together and come find you then I'd have one dead Norway on my hands. I didn't want that to happen, even if I hated your guts I'd never want to see you dead and all. So I kept walking around after we talked a bit, then Finland found me and asked me how our date went. I felt so bad that I didn't meet you for dinner, I ended up walking back with him and the rest of my friends to the hall. Which you know what happened from there."

Norway took in Denmark's story quietly then smiled up at him slightly, "well I'm glad things are back to better than normal." He stood up on his tiptoes and placed his hands on either side of Denmark's neck before kissing him on the lips. They broke apart a few minutes later and continued to walk back to the hotel in peace, save for England and France running past them, France wearing nothing with England barely more clothed than him. The Nordic couple turned bright red then shook their heads as they headed in for the night.

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**A/N:** Randomly naked France and England for your viewing pleasure. Not quite ready for Denmark and Norway to go all the way yet, but France plagued my imagination during this section. I did what any sensible person would do, I let him loose. And yeah I did get my revenge on the jerk that was blowing the horn. Served 'em right.


	15. Shining Tomorrow

**A/N**: This is the last chapter of this story! I'm sad it's ending but I feel so honored that so many people have supported me with this story! I should be posting up the first chapter of the sequel in a couple of days. Once I get over the fact Germany lost…

I don't own Hetalia; otherwise I would use its power to create world peace.

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A few days later and the Olympics closed up with wonderful music, fireworks and William Shatner. So it was time for all of the nations to go their separate ways until the World Cup. Denmark and Norway found Sweden and Finland while checking out of the hotel. "So we'll see you two at the airport?" Denmark asked as they walked away from the counter.

Finland shook his head, "Svi and I are going on a vacation to visit Scotland but not until I get one more go at that half pipe!" Finland declared with fire in his eyes as he picked up his snowboard.

Sweden smiled, "'s good 't take a v'cation every now 'n then." He gave Finland a pat on the head, "see y' later, D'nma, Nils." With that the pair piled into the rental car, where Sealand was in the back eagerly playing some video game.

Norway and Denmark waved then rode in a limo together to the airport. There they found Canada wishing everyone well, or at least those who could see him. Belgium gave the invisible nation a hug; "see you at the World Cup, Matthew." She smiled, watching he and Switzerland shake hands. The neutral nation was clearly not happy that Lichtenstein wanted to stay for another week with Canada without her big brother's supervision.

"If you harm one hair on her head, so help me this county's going down," Switzerland threatened.

"Please brother, I'll be okay," Lichtenstein reassured him hastily.

Denmark and Norway approached the group. "Hey Canada, great Olympics, and thanks for all your help." Norway smiled as they shook hands before a brief hug.

"No problem, I hope to see you at the World Cup and maybe even the summit later this year," Canada smiled, as always speaking in his quiet voice.

Denmark scratched behind his head and shook Canada's hand while Norway and Lichtenstein bade one another farewell. "I guess I owe you one for this."

"Oh it's no trouble at all," Canada replied delighted that the taller Nordic could see him. That brought the grand total of other nations that could see him to six. It was far better than when he started off the Games. "Feel free to come visit any time."

Norway leaned against Denmark, "Definitely."

They waved as they followed Belgium and Switzerland through security to the gates. Norway gave Belgium a hug and shook hands with Switzerland before the two couples split up to get on their flights home. Down by the gate, Denmark saw America asleep on Prussia's shoulder with the white haired nation stroking his companion's hair gently. Prussia gave an almost glare up at his fellow member of the Awesome Trio, "it's not what it looks like!" He shouted defensively.

That woke the sleeping nation up, "Huh?"

"No wait it's not what the awesome me meant!" Prussia denied hastily, and then clamped his lips over America's in an effort to silence him. The idiot cowlick on the blond nation's head shot straight up in the air in surprise while his face turned red. Denmark and Norway both backed away hastily before either a fight or a make out session erupted in the airport.

The couple checked their flight schedule and realized they had time for lunch. Denmark smiled, "where do you want to get food?"

Norway frowned until he felt a pair of arms wrap around his head, accompanied by enough force to almost knock him to the floor. "Ve~ Norway let's get pasta together! Germany's gonna buy some pasta! Come eat with us!"

The Nordic straightened up to find Italy hanging around his neck smiling. The auburn headed nation cowered slightly when he saw Denmark but relaxed when the large nations smiled kindly. "Alright then, if it's alright with Germany we can eat with you."

Germany, who was a little ways down the terminal frantically looking around for Italy, spotted them. Though by the time he started towards them, Italy had taken Norway's wrist, who in turn took Denmark's hand, while the Mediterranean nation led them enthusiastically towards Germany at a dead sprint. In the process of dragging along two people, Italy stepped on one of his shoelaces and tripped, which in turn brought the two other nations down with him. Germany sighed and placed his hand on his forehead before helping Denmark and Norway up. He bent down, tied Italy's shoes again, and placed his hand on the smaller nation's head to bow it. "Sorry about that." He apologized serious.

"But Germany-y, we're gonna get pasta right? Please, they want pasta too! Can we have pasta?" Italy pleaded.

Germany sighed and faced the other couple, "Denmark, Norway, would you like to join us for lunch?"

They agreed and had a rather enjoyable meal with the other nations. Denmark and Norway bade farewell to their friends an hour later before finally arriving at their own gate. At the gate across from them sat England and France, the former of the two fuming vehemently about something, probably involving France. Speaking of whom, France stood up and sauntered gleefully over to the pair and took Norway away from Denmark, one hand tilting the Nordic's head, the other possessively wrapped around his back. "Ah ma fleur du nord, I believe this to be farewell. Though not forever. I shall see you at La Coupe du Monde. Oui?"

"Um right," that moment confirmed to Norway that the world was back to normal.

"Until then, bon voyage ma fleur du nord. I shall bid you farewell in the most proper fashion," and with that Norway expected a brief kiss on both cheeks. But he forgot the man in front of him was France, so he felt the other nation's lips right on his in a heated kiss, much to the chagrin of Denmark and England.

"You cheating bastard!" England shouted and dragged France off of Norway and down the gate to their plane to London.

Norway's face was red and he bowed to Denmark. "I'm sorry about that," he apologized embarrassed.

"Oh don't worry it's not your fault, I'm not gonna kill ya. I'm gonna help England murder France is all." Denmark smiled kindly, yet Norway was sure he could see flames erupting from behind his new boyfriend. "But that's for later, right now we gotta get going." He smiled as they walked up to the gate. Before they boarded though a young teen came running up, it was the fan with the duct tape that had saved Texas. Silently she handed an envelope to him then ran off again. He pocketed the letter and boarded the plane along with Denmark. When they sat down and buckled he pulled the envelope out and tilted his head, the language looked like someone had fed it through an Internet translator, the grammar wasn't perfect Norwegian but he could understand it. Denmark leaned over his should, "ooh what's it say?"

Norway cleared his throat then read, "dear Mr. Norway and Mr. Denmark, congratulations on doing well at the Olympics and getting together. We had a blast getting to meet you guys and hang out for the event. My speech is better than my writing, as you can tell. Anyway, we had a lot of pictures and thought you might want them; photos wouldn't work in our world. Our sister is the queen and she doesn't like tech from this world, so we gave them to you. My brother threw in a drawing he did while we watched your match against Canada in the final. Best from the Kingdom of Apropinquandi Montui and the Ucodi, Tenoh and Darnell."

Denmark frowned, "never heard of that country. Some sort of role playing game?"

"I'd assume so," Norway nodded. He folded the letter and replaced it in the envelope. He examined the pictures; one was from the first day they met back in Oslo after practice. The next few were from curling matches, followed by a couple of them at the party on the second day. After that came a few odd shots from around Vancouver of the twins, presumably as souvenirs. Then came the group shot everyone took at the park when they played a pick up game of football. Lastly came the drawing of him and Canada shaking hands after the final game, the boy was a talented artist no doubt about that. He'd colored in his sketch accurately down to the exact pattern of Norway's pants. He passed the drawing to Denmark, and then packed up the pictures into the envelope. Denmark passed back the picture, and stuck an ear bud in his ear passing the other off to Norway.

He stuck it in for a moment then tore it out, "I will have that song stuck in my head for the rest of the flight now, you ass."

Denmark shrugged and grinned cheekily, "It's a small world after all! It's a small world after all! It's a small world after all! It's a small, small world!" He popped the other earphone back in and reclined in his seat. Norway fished out his book and read quietly until he fell asleep on Denmark's arm. They arrived in Reykjavík and ate dinner with Iceland, Ukraine, Russia and Belarus. The older Nordics would ordinarily have found this a rather disturbing setup, since most people found Russia too creepy, but Belarus' overwhelming creepiness kept the other nation rather pleasant to be around. They bade farewell to Iceland praying that Russia wouldn't murder Norway's younger brother and hopped on a plane to Oslo. They arrived back at Norway's house, where Denmark promptly raided the fridge for beer and something to eat. He flopped down on the leather sofa and turned on the TV.

"Danma use a plate!" Norway shouted and abandoned his luggage by the door.

"Come on Nils! We just got home! I'm hungry!" Denmark whined.

Norway stalked over and folded his arms blocking the other nation's view of the television. "Get a plate. Now!"

"Make me," Denmark chided, set his food and drink down on the floor and pulled Norway on top of him into a heated kiss.

Back in Vancouver at the hotel, Darnell stood up and held up his backpack of stuff. "I'm ready to go when you are Tenoh!" He frowned and searched for his sister, but when he couldn't find her, the teen sat on the bed and watched TV. His sister emerged from the darkness of the closet a few minutes later. "It took you long enough."

"You'll excuse me if the hotel didn't believe I had that much money. I had to run to an ATM, make a withdrawal from my cousin's account and personally hand the guy at the counter the payment in cash. Well at least they won't question cash. You all packed?" She asked and pulled off her winter jacket stuffing it in her backpack.

They walked over to the closet door, when Darnell sighed, "I don't suppose we'll ever get to see them then. I mean once we go back, then what?"

"First off it's not like this world disappears when we go back, second off, Harun and Nero called, they sent us this." She picked up a large postal box. After some digging in it she threw a brilliant yellow shirt with green trim at her brother. "Put it on."

He did as he was told, then frowned, "I feel like I'm radiating sunshine and goodwill. And who's 'Brasil'?"

Tenoh grinned from ear to ear and pulled on a black shirt with a red collar and three dark yellow lines on the arms while flourishing an envelope. "It's pronounced Brazil. Nero, being Demon King of Earth and a huge fan of the beautiful game scored enough for us, Ethan, Kaunis and Claire. Guess whose going to the World Cup? We are!" She practically sang. "So don't worry, we'll see them again in a few months. Just don't unpack your winter clothes! We're going south of the equator!" Swiping one hand across the mirror on the closet door, she tossed her backpack and the box through before stepping through the mirror.

Darnell sighed, "Why must every sporting event you enjoy have to be in winter? Why can't we have a nice tropical vacation for once?" And with that he followed his sister through the portal to their world.

Finis

* * *

**A/N:** I'll leave what sorts of things Denmark and Norway are up to to your imaginations. I'm terrible at writing that sort of thing. Once again thank you to everyone who supported my first attempt at a Hetalia fic! My sequel will probably focus more on Netherlands once it gets into the main story, I've got the first couple of chapters written and it's mostly Denmark and Norway but I think the focus will shift. Please look forward to it!


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